


And the Dream Goes On

by Deku_Lily



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, Gen, Magic-User Frisk (Undertale), Mentions of Death, Mentions of past abuse, Nightmares, Not sure what else I should tag, Occasional swearing, Pranks and Practical Jokes, SOUL Mechanics (Undertale), Violence, can't believe i forgot that tag omfg i'm dumb, failure to sell said kid, intent to sell a kid as a prostitute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-07-06 07:33:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 102,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15881472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deku_Lily/pseuds/Deku_Lily
Summary: There were once two creators. Now there is one. The one left behind continues the fantasy her departed friend began.Frisk begins her life as princess of the monsters, but it soon becomes clear there's more to her than anyone ever suspected. As the past tries to haunt her, she rewrites her fate yet again.*PLEASE SEE CHAPTER 27 FOR AN IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT*





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please see Chapter 27 for an important announcement regarding the future of this fanfic.
> 
> If the Prologue seems confusing, it's because I pick up where I left off in [Chapter Fifteen of Underfantasy.](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12838892/15/Underfantasy) Link leads directly to the chapter on Fanfiction.net.

**And the Dream Goes On**

 

**Prologue**

 

_The camera shook while it was being adjusted, focusing on a young girl sitting in a chair in front of the tripod. She hunched a bit, adjusting the hood on her sweatshirt as she asked of someone, “Do we really have to do this? I thought this kind of thing was what the notes were for.”_

 

_From behind the camera came another girl’s voice. “Totally! Think of it as interview practice once you’re a big-time author.”_

 

_Brown eyes were skeptical behind their spectacles as the girl in the chair said, “I don’t think big-time authors record their story notes on camera.”_

 

_“You don’t know that!” At the seated girl’s unamused expression, her friend began to wheedle. “Just humor me,_ puh-leeeeease _, Frisk? With a cherry on top? I’ll be your best friend!”_

 

_“Manuela, you’re already my best friend. And my name is Francine.”_

 

_“I mean an even better best friend! And it’s called a nickname. I mean, Francine Isabella Kane? It’s perfect! I still think you should use it in the story.”_

 

_Francine laughed at her friend’s antics, but shook her head. “I’m still not sure about making Frisk one gender or another. I’m still thinking about it. If I use my name, I should probably use yours, somewhere. But where am I going to fit Manuela Carmelita Sanchez-Alzamirano?”_

 

_The camera finally stopped moving around, perfectly steady as it focused on Francine. Manuela said, “I don’t know, but you don’t have to. I mean, this is originally your idea, after all.”_

 

_“Maybe, but we’re cooperating on this. It’s just as much your story as it is mine, now. Especially Sans’ parts.”_

 

_There was an almost evil giggle from behind the camera, and a sing-song taunt. “Yoo-oou lii-iike Saaa-aaaans~!”_

 

_“Sh-shut up!” Francine was blushing miserably. “You like him, too!”_

 

_“Yeah, but I ship Soriel. Frans fangirl, thy name is Francine.”_

 

_Still blushing, Francine said, “At least I’m trying to build as strong a foundation for their relationship as I can, which is going to take time. Besides, there’s going to be a point before then where the timeline will diverge, letting both our ships become a possibility.”_

 

_“I know, I know. But before you get too deeply into that, why don’t we start recording the real interview?” There was a sound as Manuela moved behind the camera, and a soft tapping of paper as notecards were organized. Manuela cleared her throat and said, “To you, what is ‘determination’?”_

 

_With no hesitation, Francine said, “Purpose. It’s the reasons you keep in the back of your mind as you make your choices in life, and the drive to see them through to the end. No matter what.”_

 

_“So it’s more than ‘the will to live’?”_

 

_Francine nodded. “Much more. Where it comes from is important. Wanting to live is fine, but_ why _do you want to live? Is there something that you still have to do? Is there something, or_ someone _, you have to protect?_

 

_“I think this is how Undyne defies death when monsters supposedly can’t handle high amounts of DT. She literally pulls herself together as her body threatens to turn to dust. I think it’s because she believes in her purpose of protecting everyone from the human that allows her to keep fighting. Because she loves her friends, her king and her people, her determination combines with theirs and transforms her into a true hero.”_

 

She couldn’t watch any more. Manuela stopped the DVD, sniffling. They had recorded more than that but hearing her late, dearly lamented friend’s voice speaking from the past like that… It was a bit much, for having buried Francine just a week prior.

 

The two of them had made this before the story had taken its darker tone. Before Francine started projecting her deepest, darkest fears onto her story. She had finally decided to use her name in there, by then. It was probably the first sign that things weren’t going well for her but, like everyone else, Manuela missed them. She’d done nothing for her precious friend…

 

Manuela scolded herself. _*Stop that! Remember what you saw the day Frisk died. Remember the vision, what you felt! She doesn’t blame you, so stop blaming yourself._

 

Wiping away more tears, she took the DVD out of her laptop. She opened the writing program on it and got to work.

 

She had promised her friend that she’d keep working on their dream, their fantasy-made-real. She was determined to keep it.


	2. Frisky Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A confession is made, and an offer.

_ “There won’t be a mass exodus of monsters to the surface, I think. Not in my story. There’s too many useful things still in the Underground, and too much to be done before they can start making a comfortable life for themselves up there. They also might be a little more leery of making contact with humans, especially if Frisk and the king are the ones arguing for caution.” _ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-   
  
**Chapter 1: Frisky Business**   
  
It was several days after the barrier had been broken. Although everyone was eager to move to the surface, the king of the monsters urged his people to remain cautious. The humans in the area had no reason to think the barrier would ever be shattered and so might be surprised by the appearance of monsters. Even so the people were hopeful, and those who wished to leave the soonest set up a large camp not far from the exit of the Underground.   
  
Sentries were set to patrol the area, continuing to protect the monsters. Although the last fallen human had said there were no large human settlements within half a day’s horse ride of the mountain, they could not account for any hunters stalking the foothills. Or for thieves running from the law and hoped the mountain’s reputation would protect them from the authorities. People were asked to be vigilant… and yet even that could not dampen their hopes for a new future under the sun.   
  
For the time being, the Core would have to remain active. However, since so many monsters were leaving it could run at about half of its normal capacity. That would be enough for the few remaining residents to utilize, and it would keep the factories which produced food powered until the first harvest reaped under the sun by monsters in centuries. The Underground would be an even darker place than before, but everyone knew it was worth it.   
  
Back down in the castle, the king and his council sat in their meeting chamber. They had been asked to meet with the human that had somehow freed them all, without having to sacrifice their soul.   
  
The foppish Baron of Ampersand, T.N. Roman Corinthians, privately wondered why he should have to meet with some grubby little human child. He had enough to deal with on his plate, overseeing the move of supplies to the surface. He was more concerned about trying to get a farm and a factory or two going up there, and the sooner that money started flowing back into his family’s pockets, the better.   
  
The Earl of Sharpe, Dante Flat, balanced his chair on its back legs as his long, skeletal tail supported him. The slim half-drake wasn’t too concerned with much of anything, except for the work of making sure the laws were followed even on the surface. It was really cutting into his personal life, but he’d be able to live with it.   
  
The Duke of Asterisk was present, for once. The judge, jury and executioner of the Underground, Comic Sans Gaster, only yawned. It was much too early in the morning for him to be awake. Besides, he already had a fair idea of what the human wanted to say… because she had confessed to him, first. But if the king wanted her to be his ambassador the kid would have to tell him, too. She’d have to tell them all and have judgement passed on her, again. It really wasn’t fair, and if he could have spared the kid from this he would have. He’d tried to, but she was determined to tell the truth.   
  
Sans started dozing in his chair and his secretary kicked him in the shin. Not hard enough to hurt him at all, just to wake him up. His cousin, Lady Pristina Phantom, leveled a glare at him. Her expression alone screamed, “This is too important for you to nap through, bonehead!” His own expression promised retribution in the form of a prank. She was unfazed, and the others didn’t miss the silent byplay between the two. The king and the earl were mildly amused, but Roman just rolled his eyes skyward with a groan.   
  
“How much longer is the human going to make us wait?” he asked. “There are many important things to be done and I would much rather be about them than just sitting here.”   
  
The king, Asgore Dreemurr, tried to soothe his temperamental baron. “Now, now, My Lord. It’s not even time for the meeting to begin! We are the ones who were early. The human can hardly be blamed, for that.”   
  
The chamber door opened, but it wasn’t the human they’d been expecting. It was the head of the Royal Guard, Undyne, trailed by the former royal alchemist.   
  
Dante raised a spiked brow ridge. “Alphys? What are you doing here? Didn’t the queen fire you the other day?”   
  
The little yellow lizard blushed miserably. “Y-yeah, she did… But I-I’m not here in any kind of official position. Frisk just asked me to be here, s-so... here I am?” She shrugged meekly. Undyne made a face, then picked up Alphys and took her to a chair. She plopped the alchemist in it, glaring at the others as though to daring them to say her… more-than-just-a-friend had no place here.   
  
She knew of the mistakes Alphys made in the past. She would still back the alchemist no matter what, and beat the  _ hell _ out of anyone that gave her crap about it! She would have fought the queen over firing her, but Alphys had stopped her. She had said losing her job was the lightest punishment she deserved…   
  
Undyne stopped glaring when Sans said, “welp, if the kid asked you to be here, that’s more than enough for me! good to see ya out of that stuffy old lab, alphys.”   
  
Undyne had placed her hands on Alphys’ shoulders after setting her in the chair. Now, she felt one of those hands being carefully patted by a clawed hand. She looked down to find an appreciative smile on Alphys’ face. She really was too damned cute…   
  
Undyne grinned, gently squeezed that shoulder, then took a seat of her own right next to Alphys. Aloud, she said, “Anyone have any idea what the little punk wanted to talk about?” Before anyone could answer the door opened again, admitting yet another skeleton.   
  
The duke’s younger brother Papyrus, sentry and future royal guardsman, greeted everyone in his usual boisterous manner. “GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE!! DID ANYONE ELSE GET TO WATCH THE SUNRISE?? I DIDN’T KNOW THE ‘SKY’ COULD TURN SO MANY DIFFERENT COLORS!”   
  
Sans raised a brow ridge at him. “you’ve seen like three sunrises by now, bro…”   
  
Papyrus nodded enthusiastically. “INDEED I HAVE!! BUT THE COLORS ARE ALWAYS DIFFERENT! HUMAN FRISK SAYS IT’S BECAUSE THE ‘CLOUDS’ ARE CATCHING THE SUNLIGHT, LIKE A PRISM, SO THE SKY IS NEVER QUITE THE SAME FROM DAY-TO-DAY. THEY’RE SO SMART!!!”   
  
As Papyrus took a seat next to his brother Undyne asked, “Did the punk ask you to be here, too?”   
  
He nodded. “AS A MATTER OF FACT, THEY DID! HOW DID YOU KNOW?”   
  
“Because they asked to talk with Alphys and Asgore, at the same time. But I don’t think they ever met the rest of the council, so why are you guys here?”   
  
Asgore answered her question. “Frisk asked me to gather all the people that help me to make decisions. They did not say why, only that they had something important to share with us. But I have a feeling it may regard their decision to be the ambassador.” A thoughtful silence fell upon them. Then, right on time, the door opened once again.   
  
The first to come through was the queen. Toriel’s expression was painfully neutral as she locked eyes with Asgore. She had not wanted her child to have anything to do with him… but Frisk had been the one to point out that he was no longer going to kill them. Toriel said nothing to him but smiled at the others in the room, especially her pun-loving friend Sans. She then moved to one side to reveal the human standing behind her.   
  
The human that called herself Frisk was trying to hide how nervous she felt behind a squinty-eyed smile. It had been hard enough to confess her crimes to Sans when it had been just the two of them in that sunset-colored corridor… To tell that story again, in front of all her friends ( _ and _ three complete strangers whose names and titles she only just learned yesterday), was almost more than she had bargained for. But she had to do it. She had to tell them all the truth. Once Toriel, the person she regarded as her mother, had seated herself at the foot of the table Frisk took a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies in her middle.   
  
“Thank you all for agreeing to meet with me, this morning,” she said as confidently as she could. “I’ve asked you to come here because I have something important to tell you, which may very well affect relations between monsters and humans. But before that, there’s something else I have to say.   
  
“Frisk isn’t my real name. It’s just an alias I’ve been using. My real name is Francine Isabella Kane and I may very well be a criminal, as far as other humans are concerned…”   
  
~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~   
  
By the time Frisk finished telling her story a stunned silence had fallen upon the room. The only people not surprised by it were Sans and, oddly enough, the skeletal dragon-man leaning back in his chair, somehow rocking himself a little. She let it sink in for a moment, before addressing the king.   
  
“So you see, Your Majesty, although I would like to help you by being your ambassador to the humans, I’m not certain I  _ should _ be.” Frisk tried to smile, but she knew it was bitter. “It wouldn’t do to have a criminal represent your people, after all.”   
  
Asgore blinked at her, amazed that such a sweet-looking child could be driven to such lengths. Toriel had only covered her mouth, her expression stricken as she listened, the injuries she had healed upon Frisk’s arrival to the Underground suddenly making too much sense. She reached out to hug Frisk but the human simply held her hand and patted it, not wanting to look like a child in front of everybody.   
  
Alphys’ jaw had dropped some time ago and she only just now remembered to close it. “N-no wonder you said the truth would make me feel better… T-talk about first-hand experience! My god…”   
  
Undyne was grinding her teeth. “Where is he?” When Frisk only looked confused, she started yelling, “WHERE’S YOUR UNCLE?! I’m gonna tear that piece of trash limb-from-limb!! NOBODY is gonna hurt MY friend like that and get away with it!!! NGAAAAAHHHH!!!” She rose from her seat, magic spear forming in her hands as she roared. She twirled it over her head and almost brought it down on the table… but Asgore’s trident stopped it.   
  
“Undyne, I understand how you feel, but  _ please _ do not take it out on the table!”   
  
Undyne’s face twitched, not wanting to disrespect her king, mentor and friend, but she was just so  _ angry! _ She dismissed the spear and started pacing round and round the room, punching her palm with a fist and muttering words she knew she shouldn’t say too loudly around Frisk (or Papyrus, for that matter).   
  
Papyrus was the most stunned. He had no idea any creature could hurt another so badly, or that the one being hurt would want to hurt them back! He looked to his brother, hoping that this was all some big, elaborate joke to make him feel naïve, but Sans’ complete lack of a smile was all it took. This was real. His friend’s pain was been real…   
  
The baron was the first of the council to speak. “Your Majesty, do you mean to tell me you’ve intended for us to live amongst such…  _ animals _ this whole time?”   
  
Frisk found her voice and spoke while still holding Toriel’s hand. “In all fairness, sir, my uncle is… an exception, and not the rule. Most humans aren’t all that different from monsters, except for what they look like and a general lack of magic abilities.”   
  
Roman looked at her coolly. “If you must address me, human, you will call me ‘Lord Ampersand’, or ‘My Lord’.”   
  
“Of course, My Lord. Please forgive my ignorance.” Frisk went as far as to bow, which pleased the baron mightily although he tried not to show it. He only had the smallest of smiles on his face as he preened at having his ego stroked so promptly. The other skeletons in the room, even Papyrus, all rolled their eyes at him.   
  
The king cleared his throat. “Moving on… Lord Sharpe, Duke Asterisk, what say you?”   
  
The earl stroked his mandible with a taloned hand as he stared at the ceiling. “Well… The fight in the basement could be considered self-defense, since the human’s… since  _ Frisk’s _ life was being endangered. However, all counts of theft and arson were clearly premeditated.” He looked over to Frisk and wagged a finger at her. “We call those ‘no-nos’ down here, girly.” Frisk hid her face in her turtleneck, remembering the  _ last _ time someone had said something like that…   
  
Sans scoffed, then said, “if i ever saw a case like this in MY court, i’d throw the charges back in their faces and sign the arrest warrant for her uncle! far as i’m concerned, she never would’ve done what she did if he hadn’t driven her to it.” The tone of his voice changed and his pupils extinguished as he added, “This…  _ individual _ has all the hallmarks of a ‘special case’…” Everyone but Undyne shivered, just a little. The warrior shouted that she would carry out the arrest,  _ personally _ .   
  
Dante nodded, but said, “The problem is that all these crimes were committed on the surface, so they’re subject to human laws. It’s all out of our jurisdiction. We may not be able to help, if it comes to trying to defend her in court OR prosecuting her uncle, not unless the humans will let me study their laws. But that may take too long if they get their hands on her before I’m ready to represent her.”   
  
Asgore nodded. “So what you are saying, My Lords, is that having Frisk as our ambassador at the moment would be to her detriment?”   
  
The earl shrugged with hands and shoulders. “Honestly, Your Majesty, having this on her résumé might always be a problem… But I’ll stand in her corner, whenever she needs me to.” He winked, and added. “The little firebug just makes life too interesting to lose, now!”   
  
Sans gave him a raised brow ridge and said, “i think what dante  _ meant _ to say was we’ll back frisk, no matter what. but yeah, ‘til we can figure this out, it might be best for the kid to just lay low, for now. she probably needs to learn how politics work, anyway.” He looked at Frisk and shook his head. “i don’t envy you, kiddo. that junk is  _ boring _ .”   
  
“I’ll back Frisk, too!!” Undyne had stopped her pacing and was now standing beside the human. She clamped Frisk to her side with her right arm, making a fist with her left hand and holding it before her heart as she proclaimed, “The Royal Guard is gonna keep EVERYONE safe from the animal that did this to her! And anyone ELSE that gets the same idea!! THEY’RE ALL DOG MEAT IF I EVER GET MY HANDS ON THEM!!!” Even though Frisk was being squeezed against Undyne’s side, she managed to thank her friend with an appreciative wheeze.   
  
Alphys shyly raised her hand. “I-I… I want to help, too! M-maybe if we take the scrying eyes I scattered through the Underground and put them on the surface, it might help the sentries with their patrols…?”   
  
Undyne smiled at her. “That’s a great idea! I know just where to put them.”   
  
Roman cleared his throat impatiently. “IF that is all, I’m sure we all have important business to attend to. I know I certainly do. If I may be excused?” He raised a brow ridge at the king and received a nod. He bid everyone good day (even to the human because there was no excuse for a noble like him to forget his manners) and left the council chamber. Almost everyone relaxed at his absence. Frisk couldn’t, due to being squeezed by Undyne.   
  
The warrior groaned. “I  _ swear _ that guy gets snootier every time I see him!” She finally remembered that she was still holding Frisk and let the human down.   
  
Sans crossed his arms atop the table and rested his chin on them as he said, “roman’s not so bad, once you get used to him. it’ll take a few decades, but he’ll grow on ya.”   
  
“Like a fungus, maybe,” Pristina muttered.   
  
Sans waved a finger at her. “now, now, tina, there’s no need to  **shiitake** like that. roman just has high  **morel** standards. he can be a  **fungi** , when he wants to be! he just needs to be convinced to break the  **mold** . i would  **lichen** him to a-!”   
  
Papyrus clamped a hand over his brother’s mouth. It had been the only way to stop the pun barrage. Everyone in the room except Frisk and Toriel had started groaning at the first one, and the two exceptions were trying very hard to maintain neutral expressions (the human managing better than the queen). But Sans saw his brother’s smile, strained though it was, and pointed to Papyrus’ cheekbones as though to draw attention to that fact.   
  
“YES, BROTHER, I KNOW I’M SMILING. I STILL HATE IT.” Sans smiled with his eyes and pinched his brother’s cheekbone affectionately. Papyrus shook himself away from Sans, uncovering the comedian’s mouth as he said, “WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP!!!” Sans chuckled, but said no more.   
  
Frisk mastered herself and stopped laughing. To Dante, she said, “Lord Sharpe, you may want to start with studying New Ebott Town’s local laws. My uncle’s ranch is supposed to fall within their jurisdiction but ranchers like him tend to… chop and prune at them. Their distance and isolation from the general population makes them think they’re above any law not their own.”   
  
The earl nodded. “Noted. But it’ll probably be a while before we start seeking out humans to talk to. There’s no rush, at the moment.” He righted his chair and stood, using his tail to push it back under the table as he said, “Don’t worry about it. Right now there’s something more important to do. It occurs to me that we haven’t been formally introduced.” He walked closer to Frisk, stopping at a respectful distance before giving her an elegant, courtly bow as he said “Dante Flat, Earl of Sharpe, at your service, Princess.”   
  
Frisk blushed a little and pointed at herself. “Me? A princess?”   
  
He winked. “Well, of course! You’ve been adopted by the queen, haven’t you? That makes you a princess.” He took the hand Frisk was holding up in gentle talons and said, “A rather lovely one, at that,” before kissing her knuckles in a gentlemanly fashion.   
  
Frisk ignored the somewhat flirty introduction in favor of asking a question. “How are you kissing my hand? I thought skeletons didn’t have lips.” For that matter, his teeth were still very much visible. But then what was being pressed to her knuckles, if not teeth?   
  
Earl Sharpe only smiled. “A skeleton can do anything with enough magic.” When Toriel cleared her throat and levelled a mild glare at him he quickly added, “You’ll, ah, learn more about that when you’re older.” He excused himself and left the room as Toriel tried to glare a hole in his retreating back.   
  
Sans stood up for his friend. “dante’s not a bad guy, tori. kids are strictly on his ‘nope’ list. he just can’t help being such a flirt with everybody. he doesn’t mean anything by it.” He declined to add that the earl might take a real interest in Frisk once she was of legal age. He figured his friend might like to stay whole and uncharred.   
  
Toriel huffed. “I should certainly hope not! My child is too young for such things.”   
  
Frisk tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Mother, I’m thirteen years old.”   
  
The queen was a little shocked, since she had thought Frisk was younger than that, but she remained undeterred. “Well… That is still too young. And even if you were not, he is much too old for you!”   
  
Asgore cleared his throat. “Frisk, Tori… I mean, Toriel? While you two are here, there was something I wanted to ask.”   
  
Undyne looked at him, wondering if he was talking about  _ that _ . She beckoned to Alphys, saying that they should get started on moving the scrying eyes she’d mentioned. Papyrus followed them out, saying he wanted to talk with Undyne. He told his brother he would see him at their temporary home on the surface.   
  
Sans tried to excuse himself from the meeting… only to be intercepted by his secretary. Pristina said to him, “Oh no you don’t, Your Honor. You have paperwork waiting for you in your office.” Before he could “shortcut” his way out she turned his soul blue, making him float. Sans sighed, resigned to his fate, and kicked back in mid-air as though he was lounging on his couch at home, clearly planning to enjoy the free ride while it lasted. Pristina bowed to the king and dragged her cousin through the air and out of the chamber with her.   
  
Only the king, queen and Frisk were left. Asgore smiled, trying to hide his nervousness. Toriel wasn’t going to like what he had to say, and he couldn’t really blame her for being so protective, but he knew his request would help protect Frisk in the long run.   
  
To the human he said, “Frisk, why don’t you take a seat?” She nodded and took a seat on a corner near Toriel and gave Asgore her full attention.   
  
“It is funny that Dante mentioned Frisk being a princess,” he said. “That is actually what I would like to talk about, with the two of you. You see, I would like to adopt Frisk, as well.” Toriel’s reaction was exactly what he expected.   
  
“ABSOLUTELY NOT! I will not permit you to take Frisk from me, MR. DREEMURR.” Although she remained in her seat Toriel’s force of presence made it feel like she was standing at her full height, looking down her muzzle at the king who was trying to not cringe away from her anger. Still, he tried to explain his reasoning.   
  
“Tori, just think about it-“   
  
“Do not ‘Tori’ me, Mr. Dreemurr.” Her voice had gone soft and cold, chilling the king. “I need not think of anything. Whatever scheme you have brewing in your head, my child will have no part in it! Frisk, we are leaving.” She rose angrily, almost knocking over the chair in her haste to vacate the chamber before she completely lost her temper. She wrenched the door open and looked behind her, expecting her child to be right behind her…   
  
But Frisk hadn’t followed. She was still in her seat, her expression calm and thoughtful.   
  
Toriel suddenly had a bad feeling. Putting as much authority into her voice as she could, she said, “Frisk, there is no need to consider this miserable creature’s proposal. You can be the ambassador without being his daughter. The very idea! We are going home and forgetting this ever happened. Now come, my child.”   
  
Frisk looked at her and said, “No, Mother. I think His Majesty’s proposal has merit.”   
  
Toriel clenched her jaw to prevent it from falling. She recognized the look on Frisk’s face. She had seen it during their FIGHT, the steel in Frisk’s eyes as she decided there was Something To Be Done. Toriel had let her go once and did not want to do so again!   
  
She tried to reason with Frisk, since commands hadn’t worked last time. “My child, you heard what Lord Sharpe said. You are already a princess, just by being with me. There is no need for Asgore to adopt you, as well!”   
  
Frisk countered with, “But for how long will that remain true?” Seeing Toriel’s confusion, she said, “How long will you be ‘the queen’?   
  
“It’s clear to me that your marriage… isn’t doing well. It’s probably only a matter of time before you two divorce. But once you do, you won’t be the queen anymore. I won’t be a princess any longer, but I have to be.   
  
“Humans think some are better than others based on status, or money, or any number of things. Even though there’s no feudal system in place in New Ebott Town I’ve been told that it’s common elsewhere, and there is still a sense of authority attached to ‘royalty’. If I’m ever going to be more than just some child with delusions of grandeur I need my own title, besides just being the ambassador. I’m not sure the older humans will listen to me without it.”   
  
Toriel was stunned. She hadn’t been thinking about that. It had been hard to think at all when it felt like Asgore was trying to steal away yet another child from her. She closed the door and turned back to face them.   
  
Softly, Asgore spoke. “There is another thing to consider, as well.” Toriel said nothing, but focused her attention on him. He took that as an assent to continue. “If Frisk’s uncle is truly out there, waiting to finish what he started, then she will need to be protected. As my daughter she can have bodyguards assigned to her to watch over her.”   
  
Although she agreed that Frisk’s safety was paramount, Toriel still made a face. “I am more than capable of protecting her, myself.”   
  
“At every hour of every day?” Asgore asked gently. “Can you do so while you sleep? What if Frisk must leave your side, or you must leave hers? Marvelously strong as you are, there is only one of you. You can only be in one place at a time. Would it not help to have an extra pair of eyes or two, or three, watching over Frisk?”   
  
Even as she said, “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Dreemurr,” Toriel couldn’t ignore the fact that Asgore had a point. But she was still so torn…!   
  
“Mr. Dreemurr?” Frisk’s voice drew the adults’ attention to her, and she continued. “I would feel a lot better if Mother had someone looking out for her. My uncle isn’t the brightest star in the sky, but he has a talent for hurting people. If he ever figures out how much it would hurt everyone to kill her, he’ll do it. He’ll make us all know he did before killing everyone else.” Frisk struggled to keep her voice even as she said, “I don’t want him to hurt everyone, too.”   
  
Although Toriel knew Frisk had her own reasons to fear her uncle, the way the sweet child could still put others first pulled at her heartstrings. She knelt beside Frisk’s seat and hugged her, the human finally letting herself be pulled into a comforting embrace. There were no tears, but Toriel could feel her poor, dear Frisk shaking. She looked at Asgore over Frisk’s shoulder, finding sympathy in his eyes. She could see how he would have joined in comforting Frisk, if he could have.   
  
She would always think of Asgore as a coward, a wretch and a killer of the innocent. But even in her worst thoughts she never considered him “evil.” Although he used his duty to the people as an excuse for murder, she knew he didn’t revel in the humans’ destruction. She had fought beside him for too long during that horrible war to think otherwise. It was part of why she’d been so disgusted when he declared another war against them. Even knowing how much pain he’d been in after losing both of their children, it had been so unlike the man she had married, the man that had helped her to raise Asriel… She could see a glimmer of him, now, no longer as youthful but still with kindness at his core, chipped and battered though it was.   
  
She would never again bear the feelings she once had for him. Too much had happened between them, and too much pain filled the gap, but she was tired of being angry with him. She was  _ tired _ of feeling something that bordered too closely upon hatred. She didn’t know if she could ever forgive him, but…   
  
If Frisk was willing to trust someone that had been fully prepared to kill her, then the least she could do was try to do the same. That the youth would prefer Asgore over her human family spoke volumes of her treatment on the surface without having to say a word. What little she had said was horrid enough, and Toriel could tell her child hadn’t shared  _ all _ of the details with them…   
  
Toriel drew in a deep breath, held it, then let it out. “Very well.” She eased her embrace, holding Frisk by the shoulders. “If it will help you to feel safer, my child, then I will agree to this.  _ However _ .” She locked eyes with Asgore and said, “I am watching  _ you _ like a hawk, Mr. Dreemurr.”   
  
Asgore nodded, although it was glum. “I… I understand.”   
  
Frisk was pouting at Toriel. “Mother! There’s no need to  **ram** your point home, like that!” The two adults stared at her, wondering if she had punned on-purpose… “I think he’s been  **bleatin** ’ and battered enough. He’s made mistakes but I know he won’t  **kid** around with our safety. You need to give him the  **beh-eh-eh-nefit** of the doubt.”   
  
Toriel started howling with laughter. Frisk’s puns were always good, but her delivery was the best part! Always perfectly serious until the very end, where she couldn’t help but grin at you… And that little bleat at the end had been adorable! Even Asgore joined in the laughter as Frisk smiled at him.   
  
He calmed himself quickly, clearing his throat as he tried to get back on-topic. “Thank you, Frisk. I promise to care for you as though you were my own child. We will have to figure out how to share custody, and plan for an announcement to be made to the people, but for now…” He rose from his seat, walking around the table to approach Frisk as he said, “For now, we will be as a family.” With a quick glance to Toriel he quickly added, “Perhaps not the most… conventional one, but a family nonetheless.” He held out a large hand to Frisk, palm up, revealing the same paw-like pads Toriel had.   
  
Even as Frisk placed her hand in his and stood, painful memories lashed at her heart. She remembered hearing words like those, before fighting Flowey for the first time. He had said something very much like that just before he died. Before she  _ let _ him die and he turned to dust. Before his very soul shattered like so much glass…   
  
“Frisk? Are you alright?”   
  
The king was kneeling before her, his other hand on her shoulder. Frisk could feel herself trembling with remembered sorrow. Her hand was lost in a giant paw with a strong-but-gentle grip. It was so warm…   
  
Frisk’s mind raced to give herself an excuse… “I-I… I’m alright, Your Majesty. I’m just… I’m not accustomed to having a father, anymore. He and my mother both passed away before I was sent to live with my uncle, you see, and…” She shrugged and focused on the wall, hoping her ambiguity would help to disguise the fact that they hadn’t exactly been the best parents in the world. The time to tell that story would come, but not today.   
  
Asgore’s expression was full of sympathy. “I see…” He moved the hand on Frisk’s shoulder and used a finger to gently turn her head back to him. He could see the pain in her eyes, squinted though they were, as he said, “Toriel and I will both do our best to care for you, from now on. You will no longer be alone, Frisk, we promise you.” Asgore looked behind Frisk, up to Toriel, and Frisk did the same. The queen nodded while looking into Frisk’s eyes, smiling a bit sadly at the same time.   
  
Frisk’s lips trembled before curling into a fragile smile of her own. “Thank you, Mother. Thank you… Father. Thank you…” She sniffled, then threw her arms around Asgore’s neck to give him a brief but hearty hug. She then turned around to do the same to Toriel. They were both so kind…   
  
It was agreed that, until a custody schedule could be figured out, Frisk would live on the surface with Toriel. The two of them left the castle to go home, and as the queen passed through the archway to the surface Frisk stopped at the little star that was still shining next to it.   
  
She vowed she wouldn’t be the sort of princess to let herself be locked away in a tower. Even while others protected her she would protect  _ them _ , too. She vowed to protect her friends, her growing family, with everything she had.   
  
She was filled with determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still figuring things out. BUT! I think I'll be posting two chapters a day until this site is caught up with Fanfiction.net. After that it'll go to the same "update once a week until I run out of buffer" deal.
> 
> BUT if you're interested in reading ahead, just go to https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12930062/1/And-the-Dream-Goes-On and enjoy! :D


	3. Keep Calm and Stay Humerus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An announcement is made. Beware of punning.

_ “I don’t think Sans will stop looking out for Frisk, even once everyone’s on the surface. A promise like that doesn’t have an expiration date. It might be part of why I think the lazybones doesn’t like making them.”  _ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

 

**Chapter 2: Keep Calm, and Stay Humerus**

 

It was about a week and a half since the barrier was destroyed and the kingdom of monsters was abuzz. A rumor had spread that the king and queen were adopting the human that had freed them and their joy almost couldn’t be contained. Not even the fact that everyone had to go back to the Underground to hear a royal address could dampen their spirits.

 

The kingdom’s citizens crowded the parade ground simply called The Plaza, the largest open area in New Home. Even so, it couldn’t fit  _ all _ the citizens, and people were packed on rooftops and (carefully, if foolishly) hanging out of open windows in the buildings facing the podium where the king always gave his speeches from. Those that could hover or fly did so, leaving more room on the ground for others. 

 

Crystocams would broadcast the announcement on live crystovision to those who couldn’t make it (or couldn’t find a gap to stuff themselves into). The same images would also be projected on large screens placed around the plaza so everyone could see what was happening on stage. As the sound checks were completed, the best reporter in the Underground went to work.

 

“Goooood morning, beauties and gentlebeauties! This is your shining star Mettaton, reporting to you live from The Plaza! In just a few moments King Asgore will make his announcement, possibly putting to rest all of the simply  _ juicy _ rumors flying around. Until he does, however, let’s see what the nobility’s reaction is to all the hullabaloo!” Mettaton wheeled behind the line of royal guards present to maintain order and onto the stage, going up to the three skeletons standing there with infinite patience.

 

To Pristina, Mettaton said, “So, Milady, I see Duke Asterisk is absent again. I would think he’d be here, today of all days! Come to think of it I don’t think any of us have ever seen him in the flesh, so-to-speak.”

 

Pristina smiled politely as she answered the robot. “ His Honor found himself beset with inescapable duties. He would be here, otherwise. ” In the privacy of her mind, she knew that her cousin had somehow made himself scarce in a way only  _ he _ could. She didn’t know what that way was, but it was fiendishly effective. The old prankster had never been this good at hide-and-seek before the Core Incident… 

 

Everyone knew “Duke Asterisk” was the judge, jury and executioner but hardly anyone outside the noble families knew his full name or would recognize his face. Sans said he preferred it that way and went to great lengths to keep it so, although nobody in their family could really figure out why. But knowing him, he was probably watching everything on his phone while lounging on his couch at home. 

 

Mettaton moved on to the earl, asking him, “Lord Sharpe, I don’t suppose you would care to give us a little tease as to what His Majesty is going to announce, hmmm~?”

 

Dante laughed and said, “ The only tease on this stage is you, Metta. Going back to your boxy body after showing off that gorgeous new one… For shame! ”

 

Mettaton pretended to swoon. “Ohhhh my~ Are you going to lock me up and throw away the key, My Lord?” 

 

Dante shook his head. “ Luckily for you, being a tease isn’t a crime. ” He winked, making the crowd laugh. They’d all seen this sort of flirting between the two, before, sparking their own set of rumors (although none of them were true). 

 

Finally, it was the baron’s turn. “And you, Lord Ampersand? Care to share what our dear, darling king has in store for us?”

 

Nasal ridge in the air, he said, “ My honor as a member of the nobility forbids me from divulging that information. ” Privately, he thought this farce was unruly and unnecessary, but the king insisted upon it so he had to be here. Unlike a certain lazy-ass duke that could somehow disappear whenever he wanted and couldn’t be found until well after the fact. Even  _ Papyrus _ had disappeared! Honestly, the Gaster Brothers could be harder to find than a dropped pen, after the thing rolled god-only-knew-where…

 

Mettaton was undeterred by the nobles’ lack of news. “There you have it, folks. No loose lips to be found, here! These gorgeous skellies are keeping their teeth shut. But never fear, because in just a moment it will! Be! SHOWTIME!!” As the crowd roared a very nervous human fought the butterflies fluttering within her stomach in a guest room, deep in the palace. 

 

Frisk stood in front of a mirror, barely recognizing herself. She had been given a new dress for the occasion, complete with the Delta Rune. She had also gotten a haircut, finally cutting out the unevenness of the rather desperate job she’d done herself just before coming to the Underground. Although it was shorter than how girls on the surface normally kept their hair, Frisk liked her new bob. But, as nice as it was, her eyes kept focusing on the simple tiara now crowning her head. It was just a few twists of smooth, shaped gold, just a few jewels to pick out yet another Delta Rune, yet it felt heavier than such a lightweight object had any right to be. It was also multiplying the butterflies in her middle.

 

_ *Is it normal for princesses to be this nervous? It never seemed that way in the stories… _ She started toying with the locket she still wore around her neck, remembering.

 

She had tried to return it to Asgore soon after reaching the surface, as she had planned, but he only shook his head. As she held it in her palm to offer it to him, he used his hands to gently close her fingers around it. He had said, “This was intended for our son… It was meant to protect him, because he had given his old one to his best friend. But I do not think he would mind if it protected someone else now that he’s…” 

 

Asgore had to clear his throat before continuing. “He was a good boy, that way, always putting others before himself. So please, keep it. I am certain it would make him happy to know it is finally being put to use.” 

 

He had smiled so very sadly… Frisk hadn’t had the heart to argue, so now the precious keepsake was hers.

 

Bringing herself back to the present Frisk opened the locket, revealing the place where a small portrait could be inserted. Engraved within the lid was the word, “Family,” in delicate calligraphy. Frisk had every intention of drawing her own picture, one with all of her friends and her monster parents all together. She would have done so, already, if she’d had the time, but between helping her mother teach the monsters on the surface about what plants were edible and what to avoid, helping out around the surface camp and practicing the speech she would give at today’s announcement (short though it was), there’d been no way to-

 

**_Knock, knock_ **

 

Frisk was jarred out of her thoughts, jumping partway out of her skin. She had to swallow and make sure her heart was no longer in her throat before she said, “C-come in!”

 

A familiar voice spoke from the other side of the door. “ that’s not how the joke works, kiddo! wanna try again? ”

 

Frisk stifled a laugh, even as she walked closer to the door. “Yes, Sans, I would like to try again, please.”

 

**_Knock, knock_ **

 

“Who’s there?” 

 

“ ken u. b. ”

 

“Ken U. B. who?”

 

“ ken you believe how loud everyone’s being? you can hear them all the way in here! they’re really looking forward to this speech. ” 

 

Frisk chuckled at the joke and opened the door, although Sans’ casual reminder of the speech to come had brought the butterflies back. She found him leaning against the door jamb and let him in. 

 

Sans followed the princess into her borrowed room. Even as he looked her over for signs of stress he couldn’t help but say, “ gotta admit, you certainly look the part, already. ” Frisk’s smile was slightly strained as she thanked him for the compliment. He had a sympathetic expression on his face as he asked, “ nervous, kiddo? ”

 

Frisk smiled gamely as she said, “Of course I’m not nervous.”

 

Sans raised a brow ridge at her. “ really? lying to  _ me _ , of all people? ”

 

Frisk’s shoulders and expression fell. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I was hoping that, if I could lie to  _ you _ well enough, I could convince myself that I’m not terrified and don’t feel sick to my stomach. Because I am, and I do.” She started toying with her locket again as she said, “I’ve never spoken in front of this many people, before… I’m afraid I’ll mess something up and make a fool of myself in front of the entire kingdom!” Not to mention how it would make her new father look like a fool for believing in her, in the first place…

 

Sans only nodded. “ yep, i know that feeling. it’s why i avoid the limelight as much as possible. public speaking isn’t always rainbows and lemon drops… but  **orange** you lucky to have a friend like me to cheer you up? ” 

 

Frisk covered her mouth and chuckled. She was trying not to giggle, because she hated how she sounded like a little girl when she did, but Sans always made it so hard…

 

He just kept going, rubbing at his mandible as though in deep thought. “ color me surprised, though. you never struck me as the yellow-bellied type.  **navy** mind the fact that you ran from undyne. that’s just  **umber** -standable prudence. but the way i’m  **sienna** it, you’re more likely to… tickle people pink. ”

 

Frisk couldn’t stand it. Between the current pun barrage, and the reminder of the look on his face after her retaliation to his telescope prank, it was too much. The bubble of tension inside her body felt like it popped and she lost control of her own laughter, giggling until she was lightheaded. Sans wasn’t helping.

 

“ careful there, kiddo! don’t laugh yourself blue in the face, now. ” 

 

Frisk’s knees started to buckle and she stumbled into Sans, grabbing his shoulder with one hand to support herself as her other hand clutched at her belly. Sans extended a hand to cup her elbow, further supporting her. 

 

He was pleased with the results of his efforts. It was about time he had gotten  _ her _ to crack up like this! Frisk was usually too restrained when she laughed. It warmed his soul to know his little friend could still laugh like this, despite everything she had been through.

 

As the human’s giggles ebbed he said, “ feeling any better? you looked like you needed that. ” Frisk only nodded in response, still trying to stop laughing, but she was smiling. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had tears in them, because she’d been laughing so hard… Sans’ satisfaction doubled. 

 

“ welp! i guess that means my work here is done ,” he said. He paused, then added, “ unless there was something else you needed to get off your chest? ”

 

Frisk could finally breathe without giggling. She nodded at Sans’ question, because she one of her own for him. They hadn’t had very many chances to talk in private since coming to the surface, and especially since the meeting. She wiped at her eyes with the hand she had pressed to her belly, then realized she was still leaning against her friend. She stepped back, and as she did the butterflies fluttered up to her chest for some reason. They didn’t nauseate her, but they did make her feel… warm.

 

She ignored the new butterflies in favor of asking her question. “You’re a duke? I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but you never even hinted at it while I was travelling through the Underground.”

 

Sans’ expression was strained. “ you don’t need to ‘your grace’ me, kiddo. i’ve always hated that protocol and precedence nonsense. i don’t like bringin’ it up unless i really have to. although pulling rank on roman can be fun, sometimes. ” He grinned as he said, “ he’s got a bit of fire monster in his family tree. y’know, like grillby? they aren’t related, thank goodness, but it means roman’s a real hot head. when he gets  _ really _ mad flames cover his bones, and everything! it’s great for roasting marshmallows. ” 

 

“ _ Sans! _ ” Although she was trying to scold him for taking advantage of the baron’s temper like that, she couldn’t help but giggle at the mental image he had just provided. She could just see him holding a forkful of the aforementioned confections over the baron’s flaming head… which would only make Lord Ampersand even  _ angrier! _

 

He was undeterred. “ if he didn’t make it so fun to tease him, i wouldn’t do it. it’s the same reason i pun around papyrus. the faces he makes are just hilarious! always have been. ” His grin faded a little, as he mentioned his brother. “ speakin’ of paps, you haven’t seen him today, have you? ”

 

Frisk shook her head, her expression concerned. “No, I haven’t… Why? Is something wrong?”

 

“i don’t  _ think _ so… ” said Sans, somewhat uncertainly. “i just haven’t seen him since we watched the sunrise, this morning. it seems like, whenever he’s not on sentry duty, he’s always with undyne. and he comes back to the tent hurt… ” 

 

Frisk gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in horror. Sans quickly added, “ but not very badly, so don’t worry! it’s just… it’s like he’s having a rough time with somethin’, but he won’t tell me what it is. he just says ‘it’s a surprise’ with that big ol’ grin of his… ”

 

Sans sighed. Frisk was touched by his display of brotherly concern, although now  _ she _ was worried about Papyrus, as well… Hesitantly, she said, “Maybe… it’s extra warrior training? Real training, not the cooking lessons. Although I don’t really see why Undyne would be increasing the intensity, now…”

 

“ maybe… ” Sans shook himself, putting his grin back in place. “ welp, no use worrying! he’s a tough guy. i’m sure he can handle things ‘til he reveals his big surprise. ” 

 

To Frisk’s ears it sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that, more than anything else, but she didn’t call him out on it. She was hoping for the same, after all. She only nodded and smiled, hoping her worry wasn’t as apparent as his was. 

 

There was yet another knock upon the door. Toriel’s voice was muffled as she said, “Frisk, my child, it is time!”

 

“I’m coming, Mother!” 

 

Sans chuckled, saying, “ aaaand that’s my cue to skedaddle. ” He winked as he added, “ don’t sweat it, kiddo. you’re gonna be a fine princess. i’m rootin’ for ya. ”

 

The familiar words made the warm butterflies dance in Frisk’s chest again, even as she thanked him. She gave him a little wave, then turned to leave the room. When she had her hand on the doorknob she turned back, but Sans was already gone.

 

Frisk opened the door to find Toriel smiling. Her mother’s eyes lit with pride, seeing her daughter dressed as a princess for the first time. The two of them left the castle and went backstage. As Frisk waited for her cue, she listened to Asgore’s amplified voice. 

 

“As you all know, the barrier was broken by a remarkable individual. What you may not know is why she came here in the first place. But to know that, you must know of our past with the humans during the old war.

 

“Those of you born down here have only ever known humans to be the destructive, violent beings we faced across the battlefield. To my shame, I have never contradicted this. What I have failed to tell you is that innocent humans also suffered, back then. Caught in fighting they never wanted any part of, they died just as easily as we did. Their blood stained hands on both sides. 

 

“The human that came to us, the one bearing the seventh SOUL we needed to free ourselves, is one of those innocent ones. She escaped her old life, filled with pain, to begin anew, elsewhere. Her plan did not originally include falling into our realm, but Fate often has a strange way of working its magic upon us all. 

 

“Although she would have been happy living down here with us, she learned of our growing despair and wished to help. Even when she learned she would be required to sacrifice her life, she walked ever forward with warmth and mercy in her SOUL. She was determined to find a way to help us, without having to die. And, though she feared what awaited her on upon her return to the surface, she set those fears aside because she felt helping us was more important. I cannot tell you how much strength it takes to put others first in this manner, when all you wish to do is hide yourself away.

 

“We do not know how the barrier was broken without the human needing to sacrifice her life, but it was. And there is no denying that the human’s actions were the catalyst for this miracle of Fate. It was my hope that this miracle worker would continue to live amongst us, and she has. In fact, you all know that my wife-“ 

 

He stopped himself short, feeling Toriel’s glare from backstage. He coughed into his fist. “Begging your pardon, I meant to say my  _ former _ wife…”

 

Someone in the crowd shouted “No you didn’t, Fluffybuns!!!” loudly enough to be heard by everyone, generating laughter. The story had trickled its way through the generations, ensuring that Asgore would  _ never _ live it down. In the privacy of his thoughts the king blamed Gerson (formerly the Hammer of Justice, and an old friend) for telling the story to all the youngsters coming by his shop in Waterfall. Toriel, however, blushed miserably because she hadn’t realized  _ anyone _ remembered that blunder. People started chanting, “Fluff-y-buns! Fluff-y-buns!”, and practically the entire Underground echoed with it. 

 

Frisk was trying very hard not to laugh. Her mother’s embarrassed glaring wasn’t helping. Not even the three nobles on the stage were immune to the humor of the moment, hiding their amusement with varying degrees of success. In a certain house in Snowdin Sans laid on his couch, struggling to hold his ribs together because he was laughing so hard. His crystophone lay on the carpet while it continued to play.

 

Asgore chuckled, for a moment, happy to see his people in such high spirits. He then cleared his throat more forcefully, and very sternly said, “Now, now, settle down, everyone. Settle down!” It took a little time, and a little regal glaring, but the crowd eventually settled itself back down. Asgore nodded, and said, “Thank you.

 

“Now, as I was saying, my former wife has adopted the human that freed us. However, because of the… somewhat unusual state of our marriage, this does not automatically make her the newest member of the royal family. Not yet.

 

“I announce to all those gathered here, and to those who are watching this broadcast, that I have adopted the human in my own right.” The crowd started roaring again. Asgore had to raise his voice for it to be heard, but he was smiling as he did. “She will not simply be ‘like’ my daughter, but my daughter in truth! Citizens of the Kingdom of Monsters, I present to you Her Highness, Princess Frisk Dreemurr!!” 

 

Frisk squared her shoulders and stepped onto the stage, head held high as the clapping and cheering got even louder, as though it were possible. She reached the designated spot before turning to them and curtseying to them all. 

 

The crowd’s enthusiasm was a palpable thing. She could feel it pounding against her body as she straightened herself and walked to the podium Asgore had vacated. She stepped onto the box hidden there to help the somewhat diminutive princess be seen, and Asgore adjusted the vocal amplification apparatus (Frisk remembered it being called a “microphone” during the rehearsal) to her height. She smiled at her new parent and said, “Thank you, Papa,” which was picked up by the microphone. 

 

Almost everyone cooed at the sweet smile and the sweeter words. Those that hadn’t already been won over by the human almost certainly were now. 

 

Frisk, for her part, hadn’t meant to call him that. She had intended to use the more dignified “Father”, but just like the first time she had called Toriel “Mother”, it just slipped out. She hadn’t been allowed to call her human father anything but “sir” after a very young point in her life…

 

The princess cleared her throat, shoving those memories back where they belonged and refocusing on the present. She smiled out to the crowd and said, “Thank you, everyone, for that warm welcome. I will try to keep this brief, because I know we all have a great deal of work ahead of us.

 

“When I was first travelling through the Underground, it felt as though I was walking through a dream. I never would have imagined I would get to meet so many wonderful people, or be accepted by them on such short acquaintance. I was, and I still am, truly touched by your kindness. I doubt I will never be able to repay it in full, but I am determined to do just that.

 

“As your princess, I promise to do my best for this kingdom. By my words and actions, I will help to make this the best kingdom the surface has ever seen! I will learn all I can from my mother and father, and I will one day be your ambassador to the humans. I will share with them all of the love, hope and compassion you have shared with me. 

 

“Together, we will all build a bright, new future in the light of the sun!” 

 

The cheers of the monsters would have been heard for miles around, where they not underground.


	4. Dreams DO Come True! (The Good, Bad, and Ugly)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new challenger emerges...

* * *

 

 _“Once Frisk is adopted by the king and queen, it might be time for other people’s dreams to come true…”_ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

  **Chapter 3: Dreams Come DO Come True! (The Good, Bad and Ugly)**

 

Frisk spent the rest of the afternoon doing interviews for the various newspapers in the Underground. She recorded another with Mettaton while Asgore and Toriel were busy with their own. Once he was finished and the two of them got away from all the crystocams, he rounded on her with his hands on his hips. His “face” was all red…

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Although it was phrased as a question, it sounded almost like an accusation.

 

Frisk was mildly confused. “What do you mean, Mettaton?”

 

He waved a finger at her. “Don’t play coy with me, honey! You know what you did.”

 

She shook her head. “I’m very sorry, but I don’t understand. What have I done to upset you, so?”

 

Mettaton threw his hands in the air. “Have you forgotten, already?! Alphys told me about that blackout thing. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that, with fewer humans, there’s no idols or A-list actors, or anything of the sort! You let me go on and on about being ‘humanity’s star,’ and it turns out there’s hardly any humans left!! AND they’re probably mostly country bumpkin, rural hick farmers! Hardly the sort of audience that would appreciate a brilliant star like me.” He crossed his arms and turned his side to her, his body posture indicating that he was one miffed cuboid.

 

“I’m sorry, Mettaton,” Frisk said contritely. She thought to herself, _*So he DIDN’T hear me telling Alphys about that while he was hidden in the wall. Perhaps a little flattery will soothe him?_ Aloud, she said, “I… wasn’t really thinking of such things, at the time. To be honest, I was more concerned with winning our fight. Your attacks were so fierce! I almost didn’t make it to the end. Sometimes I think it was a fluke that got me through before the ratings got so high. I’m not certain I would have lasted much longer.”

 

She didn’t mention that he had succeeded in killing her, once. It wasn’t like he remembered, and she didn’t want to explain how she had come back. It would be hard, since she didn’t really know how, herself.

 

Mettaton’s posture changed slightly. He was plaintive as he said, “Speaking of that, did you HAVE to call me a ‘clockwork fiend’? I was playing the good guy!”

 

“I’m sorry, Mettaton. It just sort of… slipped out, when I was boasting. I was caught up in the moment.”

 

The robot was silent. It was a long enough pause that Frisk began to worry that he was still angry before he sighed heavily. “Well, I _suppose_ you could have called me something worse,” he said, finally uncrossing his arms. “And we _were_ in a beautifully pitched battle, weren’t we? I suppose you can’t be blamed for saying something like that. It helped the ratings, too, so I guess I can’t stay mad at you. Especially since I’m going to be one of your tutors!”

 

Frisk blinked and said, “Excuse me?”

 

Mettaton wheeled close and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side as he said, “Princesses are the ultimate actresses, darling! They always put their best face forward, and always stay beautiful for their adoring public. And who better to teach you how to do that than a star like me?”

 

The princess blinked some more before saying, “I… can think of no other star, Mettaton. Please forgive me if I seem disappointed, but I just assumed that my mother would be teaching me…”

 

“And I’m sure she will be, when you’re with her. But Fluffybuns needs all the help he can get, darling, believe me.” They shared a bit of a laugh before Frisk was released. “Well, I’m off! I have to go and edit this interview before putting it on CV. Toodles!” With a wave of his hand that somehow glittered, Mettaton wheeled away.

 

Next on Frisk’s agenda was to meet the bodyguards that would protect her and Toriel, from now on. She met up with her parents and they went to Asgore’s personal office to see them. Undyne and a dozen royal guards were waiting for them. Their armor clanked as their right fists touched the Delta Runes on their left shoulders in salute. Frisk recognized Greater Dog, as well as the dragon and rabbit couple that had tried to stop her journey through Hotland. The majority of them she didn’t recognize, but one of them had a very familiar forest green scarf wrapped around his neck. She tried to look through the vision slits in his helm and into his eyes, but they were little black pits surrounded by white…

 

Frisk forgot all decorum and let her jaw drop. “ _PAPYRUS?!_ ”

 

His familiar voice echoed in his helmet as he said, “YES!!” He lifted his visor, letting everyone see his beaming face. “MY  DREAM  HAS FINALLY  COME TRUE!!! I  FINALLY MADE IT INTO  ROYAL GUARD!!!”

 

Frisk beamed, as well, saying, “Oh, Papyrus, I’m so happy for you!”

 

“I’M  HAPPY  FOR ME,  TOO!”

 

Undyne cleared her throat, making it echo in her helm. “That’s great and all, but maybe save the chatter ‘til the introduction’s over?”

 

Papyrus blushed before he lowered his visor and said, “MY  APOLOGIES,  CAPTAIN! PLEASE  FORGIVE MY INTERRUPTION.”

 

Undyne only nodded before facing her monarch, addressing him much more formally than she usually did. “Your Majesty, I have hand-selected the best out of all the Guard’s volunteers who submitted their names for the duty of guarding the, uh, former queen and the princess. They have all proven themselves to be fit for this task. I swear on my honor as head of the Royal Guard that these people will lay down their lives before they fail.” All the guards bowed their heads to the royals.

 

“Thank you all,” said Asgore. “Upon further discussion with Toriel, we have agreed that the majority of your focus should be upon Frisk’s safety. Only four of you will be assigned to Toriel, and the rest will guard the princess. Undyne, I will leave the assignments in your hands. I have faith in you all.”

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty!” said the captain, and all the guards saluted one more time. “I anticipated that might be the case, so I’ve already come up with the schedule.”

 

Asgore nodded. “Very good! That will be all, for now.” Undyne nodded, then gestured to the other guards. They started filing out of the office, except for Papyrus and one of the unknown guards. The two of them stood on either side of the office door, clearly taking the first shift of their new duties.

 

The king turned to Frisk and regretfully said, “I had hoped for a little bit of quality time with you, but I am afraid that will have to wait until tomorrow. There are things I must take care of, before then. For now, you can go home and settle into your new room.”

 

“I understand, Father,” said Frisk. As agreed upon, this would be her first week living with her new father. He still lived and worked in the castle, and he said he would continue to live here until some new accommodations could be built on the surface. There was simply too much to be done before he could abandon his office.

 

“Thank you, Frisk,” Asgore said with a smile. “I will be home in time to cook dinner. Go ahead and relax as much as you want, until then!”

 

As father and daughter smiled at one another, Toriel couldn’t help but remember the last human they had almost adopted. The royal couple hadn’t made any announcements, back then, and that child had never referred to her or Asgore as their parents, but the love had been there. If she and Asgore had shown that love more, perhaps they would have had the strength to live…

 

“Mother, are you alright?” Toriel mentally shook herself. She smiled at her daughter, and assured Frisk that she was fine. The princess was unconvinced, however, and held Toriel’s hand.

 

“There’s no need to feel lonely, Mother,” she said. “It’s just for a week. Then you’ll have me to yourself until the last week of next month!” Toriel’s smile became warmer. Although her child had misinterpreted her expression, Frisk’s attempt to cheer her up still worked.

 

“I will bear that in mind, my child,” said the former queen. “I will miss you, all the same. At the very least I can drop in, if I feel the need.” To Asgore, she said, “I… will try to have faith in you. I cannot guarantee I will succeed… but I will try.”

 

“Thank you,” said the king. “That is all I ask.”

 

Toriel bid them goodbye, and left the office. The unnamed guard followed her out, and Frisk made a mental note to learn the names of all the guards. It was the least she owed them.

 

Frisk finally left Asgore’s office and went to their house in New Home, with Papyrus close behind. They made it all the way to the stairs in Asgore’s basement before Frisk put her hands on her hips and said to him, “Do you have any idea how much you’ve worried your brother?” She was standing on the stairs and he wasn’t, letting her look him straight in the eye sockets without bending her neck.

 

Papyrus lifted his visor, looking abashed. “YES…  YES, I  KNOW I’VE  WORRIED SANS.  BUT IT WAS FOR  A VERY GOOD REASON!” Frisk relaxed her posture, and nodded for him to continue.

 

“YOU SEE…  AFTER THE  MEETING WHERE  YOU TOLD EVERYONE  WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU  ON THE SURFACE, I ASKED  UNDYNE TO STEP UP MY TRAINING.  I WANTED TO BE ABLE PROTECT YOU,  MY COOL, SMART FRIEND. SHE… DID NOT  GO EASY ON ME. I THINK IT’S BECAUSE SHE  KNOWS I HOLD MYSELF BACK. I DON’T LIKE HURTING  OTHERS, BUT... IF THAT’S WHAT I MUST DO TO HELP  KEEP YOU SAFE, I’LL DO IT.” He rubbed the back of his helmet in an embarrassed manner as he added, “MIND  YOU, I  MAY JUST  PICK YOU UP  AND RUN, IF IT  MEANS WE CAN AVOID  A FIGHT IN THE FIRST  PLACE… BUT I PROMISE I  WILL KEEP YOU SAFE, NO MATTER  WHAT!”

 

Frisk smiled affectionately at her kind-hearted friend as she thanked him. Then she asked, “If this is the big surprise Sans mentioned, have you told him, yet?”

 

Papyrus’ jaw hung open, for a moment, his eyes shrunken to pinpricks, before he exclaimed, “OH  NO!!!  I HAVEN’T  TOLD SANS, YET!!!  I HAVE TO GO FIND  HIM AND-!”

 

“Papyrus, wait!” The overexcited skeleton had been about to dash away before Frisk stopped him. “Isn’t that called ‘abandoning your post?’”

 

“OH  DEAR…  YOU’RE RIGHT,  PRINCESS! THANK  YOU! BUT HOW WILL  I TELL MY BROTHER THE  GOOD NEWS?”

 

Frisk remembered how Alphys had upgraded hers and Toriel c-phones even more, and taught them both about all the new functions such as the camera. Frisk suggested using his c-phone to send his brother a picture of his new armor. Papyrus thought the news was better shared in person, but he DID want to tell Sans as soon as possible. They moved upstairs, where there was more light, and he let Frisk take the picture on his c-phone while he struck his dramatic pose. The twin tails of his scarf flapped behind him in the absolutely windless foyer of Asgore’s home as Frisk took the picture (wondering how in the world he kept _doing_ that as she did.)

 

Papyrus was happy with his picture and sent it to his brother. He then knelt down to Frisk’s level and took what he called a “selfie,” holding his c-phone out at arm’s length while he and Frisk filled its frame and smiled up at it. He said that picture was for his Undernet page. It reminded the princess that she could _finally_ “follow” him there. Once the picture was posted, Papyrus asked what she was going to do now.

 

The princess had to think about it. Tomorrow, she was going to spend her whole day with Asgore, just the two of them, getting to know one another properly. After that, the rest of her week would be dedicated to learning more about how monsters had been living in the Underground. She would be touring the farms and factories, learning about the Core, and would just generally be busy until she went back to her mother. After almost two weeks, this might be the only chance she had to go see a certain someone…

 

“First, I’m going to change my clothes,” said Frisk. “Then I think I’ll visit a friend still living in the Ruins.” At least, she _hoped_ he was still there… But she smiled up at Papyrus as she said, “I think you might know him. Sans mentioned you had a flower friend that told you predictions?”

 

Papyrus was beaming again. “YOU  KNOW FLOWEY,  TOO?! I CAN’T  BELIVE WE HAVE A  MUTUAL FRIEND!!” He sobered as he said, “I  HAVEN’T  SEEN HIM  IN AGES… I’VE  BEEN RATHER WORRIED  ABOUT HIM, BUT THINGS  HAVE BEEN SO HECTIC LATELY…”

 

Frisk nodded. “I know. I was thinking we could take him back to the surface with us, if he wanted to come. And even if he didn’t want to, we could at least visit with him.”

 

“YES!! GREAT FRIENDS LIKE US SHOULD ALWAYS VISIT THEIR FRIENDS WHEN THEY CAN!”

 

And so they were agreed. Papyrus took his station in the hallway, blocking the way to the princess’ room as she changed. She found a cream-colored turtleneck sweater with a brown stripe across the chest and new britches waiting for her, both better suited to her size. Moreover, there were undergarments, socks, shoes, shirts, dresses, pajamas and a couple nightgowns… The wardrobe and dresser were absolutely full. Asgore had truly gone all-out in his preparations. Just about the only thing he hadn’t done was find a new belt and hip pack, but that was alright with Frisk. What her mother had given her had been kind enough, but _this_ was almost overwhelming…

 

She changed into one of the shirts, the new britches and sweater. Her old belt and hip pack, along with her trusty journal case, was wrapped around her, over the sweater. Although she had mainly worn dresses when she lived on the surface, she had become accustomed to the freedom of movement boys’ clothing offered. She also liked how none of the monsters scolded her or made fun of her for wearing them.

 

Humans would have thought her strange. “Fashion” had strict lines drawn between the sexes, and they looked down on anyone that strayed from the norm. Frisk had learned that hadn’t been the case a very long time ago but these days, where _she_ had lived, it was. It would be something to keep in mind, if - _when_ \- she became ambassador.

 

Socks to match the stripe on her sweater went on, then the new boots. She took a second to appreciate how her feet didn’t flop around inside them, they way they had in the boots taken from her uncle’s attic. Those had been from when her cousins had been growing up, and they were the smallest she could find without pinching her toes horribly.

 

She had never met her uncle’s sons. They were both grown and living elsewhere by the time she was forced to live with him. But if her uncle had raised them, she didn’t think she ever wanted to know them. They were probably just like him, and the thought made her skin crawl all over, and a little choked...

 

In her mind, she punched a tomato with her uncle’s face on it. She reduced it to a juicy pulp to be scraped into a pot and burned on Undyne’s stove. She _hated_ how he kept creeping into her thoughts, and wished she could just stop thinking about him.

 

She thought to herself,  _*He’s never touching me again._ _Never, ever, EVER_ , over and over. She almost believed it.

 

Once Frisk had herself back under control, she left her room and told Papyrus she was ready to go. He suggested telling Asgore where they were going, so he didn’t worry just in case they were late getting back. Frisk did so, and Papyrus sent a similar message on the Guard-issued communication piece tucked into his helmet.

 

They made their way back to the Ruins. It took a bit longer than Frisk had anticipated, since many monsters wanted to stop her and say “hello!” to their new princess, but they made it, eventually. Papyrus was excited, since he had never seen anything beyond the door that had been locked long before he was born.

 

On their way back to the flowerbed, Papyrus marveled at all the old puzzles. He wondered who had crafted them all, but Frisk couldn’t answer his question because she didn’t know, either. She did, however, take the time to reactivate the very first door’s puzzle so he could solve it. Toriel had taught her how to reveal the hidden levers to do that, before the disagreement that had begun Frisk’s journey through the Underground. That very first puzzle could be reactivated from either side of the door, just in case, so they were hidden very well.

 

Papyrus, for his part, solved the puzzle easily.

 

They finally made it to the place where Frisk had fallen. And right there in the middle was a familiar little face. Papyrus was the first to greet their friend, visor up and out of the way.

 

“FLOWEY!!!  YOU’RE REALLY  HERE! NOT THAT  I DOUBTED YOU, PRINCESS,  BUT I’M STILL SURPRISED!”

 

Flowey’s smile was a little strained, but his voice was bright and cheerful. “Howdy, Papyrus! Long time, no see. Looks like you made it into the Guard. Congratulations, my friend!”

 

“NYEH  HEH HEH!! THANK  YOU FOR NOTICING!”

 

Flowey then looked to Frisk, asking her, “So, what brings the two of you all the way here? Don’t you have more important things to do than talking to little old me?”

 

Frisk shook her head, sitting on the ground just outside the bed of flowers. “You _are_ important, Flowey, because you’re our friend. And I’m here to ask you if you’ve made up your mind about what we talked about, before.”

 

Flowey sighed. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that. It certainly took you long enough to come back.”

 

“I’m sorry,” said the princess. “Things have been somewhat hectic. You wouldn’t believe how many people just started stuffing their faces with berries and mushrooms on the surface, before learning what’s safe to eat, or not… Mother and I have had our hands full, teaching them and taking care of the sick. And there’s one other thing too.

 

“The king and queen have both adopted me. As of today, I’m officially a princess.” _So I’m your sister, now_ , went unsaid between them. Papyrus spoke in the pause Frisk left for that news to sink in.

 

“PARDON MY INTERRUPTION, BUT WHAT DID THE PRINCESS ASK YOU, FLOWEY?”

 

The former prince didn’t look like he wanted to answer him, but he did so, anyway. He probably knew Papyrus wouldn’t leave him alone, otherwise. “She, uh.. She asked me to come to the surface, with everyone else. I told her I’d think about it.”

 

Papyrus began to speak animatedly. “OH,  BUT YOU  SHOULD!! IT’S  AMAZING UP THERE,  FLOWEY!! THE SKY IS  SO BIG!! AND WHEN THE  SUN IS UP IT’S SO BLUE!!!  THEN THE CLOUDS COME ALONG AND  IT’S ALL WHITE AND FLUFFY!!! THE PRINCESS  SAYS ‘RAIN’ FALLS FROM THEM WHEN THEY COVER  THE SKY AND TURN GREY! WE HAVEN’T SEEN THAT YET  BUT WE’RE LOOKING FORWARD TO IT!! THEN THE SKY TURNS  DIFFERENT COLORS AT DUSK AND DAWN AND IT’S ALL SO PRETTY!!! AND  OH MY GOD, THE _STARS!!!_  I  CAN’T  DECIDE WHAT  THE BEST PART  OF IT ALL IS!!!”

 

“Don’t forget the fresh air, Papyrus,” said Frisk with a smile.

 

“YES!!!  THE AIR  UP THERE IS  ALMOST AS GREAT  AS MYSELF!!” Suddenly, Papyrus sobered. “WHY  WOULD  YOU NOT  WANT TO BE  UP THERE, FLOWEY?”

 

“Well…” Flowey started to answer, but was interrupted by a strange sound coming from above. He had an incredulous expression on his face as he said, “Is that a dog barking?”

 

The three of them listened. In fact, it sounded like a pack of dogs, but the howling wasn’t familiar either of the monsters. Frisk, however, recognized them as hunting hounds. That baying howl was unmistakable, letting their master know where their prey was. They sounded exactly like the dogs that had chased her up Mount Ebott in the first place…

 

Frisk was glad she had convinced Alphys and Undyne to put a scrying eye near this hole’s entrance on the surface. She whipped out her c-phone, sending a message to Alphys, asking her if she could see any humans up above. As she did, she said to Papyrus, “Call Undyne. There may be a problem up on the surface.”

 

“Y-YES,  PRINCESS!!  UH… WHAT KIND  OF PROBLEM ARE WE  TALKING ABOUT?”

 

Frisk shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I think… I think my uncle might be here.”

 

The guard’s mandible dropped. “WHAT!?!  WHY WOULD  HE BE HERE???”

 

Flowey’s equivalent of a brow furrowed. “Frisk, what’s going on? What’s the big deal?”

 

The princess put her c-phone away and stood as she said, “I’m not entirely sure it’s even him, but I think those dogs are the ones he was using to hunt _me_ , before I fell down here. As for what the ‘deal’ is, Flowey…”

 

She didn’t have a chance to tell him. They could hear a man swearing a up a blue streak, cursing his dogs for tripping him. It was getting louder. A shadow fell across the flowerbed and Frisk’s stomach became an empty void as a chill wind blew through the marrow of her bones.

 

Her uncle was falling. He was coming _here_ , to this very spot, right this very second.

 

Flowey was already burrowing his way somewhere else. Without a word Frisk grabbed Papyrus by the wrist and hauled him away. He squawked at the sudden motion, since he had just finished talking to Undyne as Frisk pulled him. As they made it through the archway Frisk’s uncle hit the flowerbed with a **_whump!_ **

 

“AREN’T  WE GOING  TO MAKE SURE  HE’S ALRIGHT, PRINCESS?” asked Papyrus.

 

Frisk only shook her head. If _she_ could fall from that height and survive without worsening a fractured arm, he’d be fine. And if he wasn’t, that would be better for everyone… She was ashamed that she could think that about anyone but, because it was her uncle, it was only just a little.

 

Flowey was in the corridor leading to the Ruins’ entrance, in the lone shaft of light just like when he met Frisk. He was trying to ask her what was happening but Frisk didn’t answer him, either. She only dug her fingers into the soil around him, forcing him into her hands.

 

“HEY! Watch the roots! Frisk, what the _hell_ do you think you’re doing!?”

 

“I  WOULDN’T  NORMALLY ABIDE  ANY SORT OF SWEARING  AROUND A LADY, BUT I’M  EQUALLY CONFUSED!”

 

Still, Frisk said nothing. She grabbed Papyrus by the wrist again and carried Flowey in her other hand. Her thoughts were a lightning-fast jumble of possibilities and concerns. They all warred with the blinding, instinctual need to _run_.

 

They made it to the entrance of the Ruins. One corner of her mind noted the missing save star as hauled her friends behind the door. She shoved Flowey into Papyrus’ hands before pressing the hidden buttons in the wall to reveal the locking lever. Hopefully, it would take her uncle a while to figure out the puzzle.

 

Flowey’s voice finally penetrated the haze in Frisk’s mind. “Okay, now that _that’s_ done, will you tell me why you’re freaking out, Frisk?”

 

She looked at him. He had never seen her with her eyes fully open before, and he was surprised at their color. Even more unsettling, however, was the completely unnatural calm in her voice as she said, “When I fell into the Underground, my uncle was hunting for me. Now that he’s finally tracked me down I have no doubt he’s going to finish what he started and kill me. If I let him anywhere near me I’m dead, along with anyone else that gets in his way. He is _determined_ to end me.”

 

To anyone else’s ears, that was a self-evident statement. To Flowey, however, it was a hint at what Frisk truly feared. Her uncle might have the same sort of abilities Frisk herself possessed…

 

But Flowey hadn’t been able to access his file, much less save, since Frisk came to the Underground. He could only overpower her determination whenever he had the six human souls. He couldn’t tell her that because Papyrus was present, but… If Frisk’s uncle was more determined than she was, it might be a moot point, anyway.

 

They couldn’t risk killing him to find out, and Frisk couldn’t risk dying. In their short flight from the flowerbed, she had figured that much out, on her own…

 

Papyrus missed the silent exchange between the princess and the flower. He struck his dramatic pose with Flowey in one hand as he said, “FEAR  NOT, PRINCESS!  I, THE GREAT ROYAL  GUARD PAPYRUS, SHALL PROTECT  YOU AND OUR FRIEND FROM THE FIEND  WHO CALLS HIMSELF YOUR UNCLE!!” He lowered his visor and wrapped one arm around Frisk’s middle, holding her under his arm. “HOLD ON, YOU TWO!! WE’RE MAKING  A RUN FOR IT!!”

 

Papyrus cackled as he jogged away with incredible speed. He didn’t even slow down when they reached the long spiked platform surrounded by water. He jumped into the air and _ran over_ them, somehow defying gravity…

 

In one corner of her mind, Frisk marveled at his antics. Mostly, however, she was hanging on to his shoulder and watching his back, hoping beyond hope that the puzzles would buy them time to evacuate the Ruins, or at least warn people to hide.

 

She made him stop and let her down to speak with the Froggits and Moldsmals, and any other monsters they came across. She had come to understand them, in her time with Toriel, and could communicate with them to a certain degree. She urged them to flee, or at least hide in the deepest, darkest parts of the Ruins well away from her uncle, and to spread the word as they ran. Thankfully they understood, and soon there was no one for her uncle to kill if he made it past that first door.

 

As they went along Frisk would reactivate the puzzles after making sure no monsters would be trapped. Papyrus would carry her and Flowey over any spikes that appeared. They finally made it to Toriel’s old home and went inside.

 

To Flowey, the royal guard said, “THERE!  WE SHOULD  BE SAFE, FOR  THE MOMENT! LET’S  FIND YOU A NICE VASE  TO SIT IN, FLOWEY! I’M  SURE THE QUEEN WILL UNDERSTAND  IF WE BORROW ONE FOR A WHILE!”

 

As he did that, Frisk stepped outside, for a minute. She couldn’t see the star near the door, where it was supposed to be. The others along the way had been missing, too. She closed her eyes and focused, deep inside.

 

 _*Something important is happening. I need you… Please, please,_ please _! I can’t let him hurt the monsters. He WON’T hurt them, not as long as I’m their princess!_

 

She was filled with determination… and the star reappeared. She quickly saved before going back inside.


	5. Seeing Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we meet the reason Frisk ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **AUTHOR’S WARNING:** Heavy swearing, intent to sell an underage child to prostitution, and violence are all ahead. This chapter is the main reason I chose an "M" rating for this story.

 

* * *

 

_ “There will come a time, after the barrier is broken, where Frisk’s determination will be tested. I have some ideas on how, but I want the results to be… magical.” - _ Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 4: Seeing Red**

 

Frisk reentered the house as Papyrus was coming out of the living room with Flowey. The former prince was sitting somewhat grumpily in the vase that had once sat upon the dining table. The guard hadn’t bothered to take the other flowers out…

 

Frisk praised his thinking. “Good idea, Papyrus! Flowey can hide his face and pretend he’s just another flower, just in case something happens.”

 

Papyrus was beaming behind his visor. “ YOU  SEE, FLOWEY?  I TOLD YOU IT  WAS A GOOD IDEA! ”

 

“Yeah, yeah…” Flowey focused on Frisk and asked, “Well, what now? Do we keep running?”

 

Frisk was uncertain. “I… don’t know. We should get as many monsters out of here as we can. But at the same time we’re all that’s standing between him and the monsters in the rest of the Underground.”

 

“ I  NOTIFIED  UNDYNE THAT  YOUR UNCLE FELL  IN, ” said Papyrus. “ SHE’S  COMING,  ALONG WITH  BACKUP. THEY’LL  BE HERE, SOON! ”

 

“Good. Thank you, Papyrus.” Even as she nodded to him, she realized that she hadn’t checked her phone during their flight. She looked at it now, and saw that she had missed some text messages from Alphys, and her father. Frisk’s face paled. “Oh no…”

 

“ PRINCESS?  WHAT’S WRONG? ”

 

“I don’t like that face, Frisk. What happened?”

 

Somehow, Frisk spoke around the lump in her throat. “H-he… Alphys’ scrying eyes caught my uncle killing two monsters on his way to the hole he fell in. Father’s ordered a headcount to make sure he didn’t kill anyone else where the eyes can’t see… And there’s a warrant for his arrest.”

 

Papyrus’ expression was stricken before he said, “ I-I…  I SHOULD  STAND OUTSIDE  AND KEEP WATCH… ” Apropos of nothing, he added, “ I’M  N-NOT  WORRIED  ABOUT MY BROTHER BEING ON SENTRY DUTY,  AT ALL! I’M SURE HE’S PERFECTLY FINE! ” He gave Frisk the vase with Flowey in it as he suggested she contact the king, so he didn’t worry.

 

She agreed to, then said, “Even if you’re not worried about your brother, you should try calling him, anyway. To wake him up, because I’m sure he’s napping somewhere away from his post.”

 

Papyrus nodded woodenly. “ YOU’RE  RIGHT! YOU’RE  ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!  THANK YOU FOR THAT  WONDERFUL SUGGESTION, PRINCESS! ” His phone was in his hand before he even crossed the threshold of the house.

 

“Why do you think he lies like that when he’s so terrible at it?” Flowey asked once the skeleton had left.

 

Frisk shrugged as she tried to text her father single-handed. “I’m not sure. He’s probably trying to lie to himself, more than anything. I think his brother tends to do that, too, although he’s much better at it.”

 

“Yeah, his brother…” At Flowey’s tone of voice, Frisk looked down at him. Feeling her gaze, he said, “Chuckles is the main reason I don’t really want to go to the surface.”

 

Frisk’s brow knitted in confusion. “Why not?”

 

Flowey smile ruefully. “Oh, no big deal. It’s just that, out of everybody in the Underground, His Grace the Honorable Comic Sans Gaster, the Duke of Asterisk, has killed me more times than anyone else down here.”

 

He smiled wryly. “You know what it’s like, by now. To have your progress taken from you and starting over from your last recorded memory. I’ve even reset and started all the way from square one!” He frowned to himself. Despite it all… “Sans always gets this weird look on his face whenever he sees me. Like he hates my guts but can’t remember why, and he smiles while he’s trying to figure it out.” 

 

It was Frisk’s turn to frown. “What reason would he have to hate you, Flowey?”

 

The flower sighed. “I don’t think you realize how long I’ve been the one to mess with time, before you came into the picture. You have no idea how BORING it is, down here, once you’ve made every single choice and read every single book. I’ve even burned them all, multiple times, just to see if the smoke patterns are different, or if they’re the same.” He smiled and chilled his voice, just to scare her. “I’ve even killed  **everyone** down here, including your precious friends, and brought them aaaall back, just to see if they remembered.” They hadn’t, except maybe for Sans, but he could never  _ confirm _ whether or not he did… 

 

“That’s a lie,” said Frisk with her completely neutral expression. “If you could kill Asgore on your own you would have stolen the human souls and gone to the surface to gather more a long time ago.”

 

Flowey flinched. He hadn’t expected her to call him out. “Okay, okay, fine. So I only killed  _ most _ of the monsters down here.” And he  _ still _ had never been strong enough to kill Asgore with his guard up, or forced him to reveal where he hid the human souls. “But you can believe me when I say that Sir Grins-a-lot out there was usually one of the dusted ones. His brother never liked that. No one in his family did, honestly.

 

“There was this one timeline where I killed both Sans  _ and _ Papyrus… Did you know the Phantom family trains all their kids in combat? I guess it’s some tradition going back to before the war, so that cousin of theirs is no slouch. Papyrus wouldn’t be, either, if he wasn’t such a big softie and left himself wide open all the time. But that smiley trashbag… he’s especially tough.” 

 

Flowey started gesticulating with his leaves as he ranted. “Even though each of his bullets only takes one point off you at a time, he hits you with so many at once that it doesn’t matter! He only has one point of HP,  _ but  _ he dodges you so easily you can’t hit him to save your life! ‘The easiest enemy,’ MY ASS! If I didn’t need his SOUL in one piece I would have killed him that last time, too!!”

 

Flowey was breathing heavily after his little tirade. That had been eating at him for a long time… Frisk set him on the floor, her message having been sent a while ago. She put her phone away and just looked into his eyes. 

 

It made him uncomfortable. “Uh, Frisk? Why are you staring at me like that?” She said nothing, bringing one hand to cup the petals on one side of his face. He leaned away, at first, then let her caress his cheek. It was sort of nice… 

 

“I’m sorry you’ve been alone for so long, Asriel,” said Frisk. But before Flowey could tell her that wasn’t who he was, anymore, she was pinching his cheek! With that damned squinty face she said, “This is for swearing.” Her other hand pinched his other cheek as she said, “That’s for insulting Sans.” She stretched his face out as she said, “That’s for killing people.” Finally, she squished his face into itself and said, “Bad, Flowey! No more killing monsters, understand?”

 

“F’ne, f’ne! Jush le’me go, aw-weady!” He shook himself as Frisk released him. “Dammit, Frisk, why’d you do that!?” She reached for his face again and he leaned as far away as he could within the confines of the vase. “Okay, okay, I’M SORRY! Happy, now?” Frisk nodded, and stopped reaching for him. Flowey huffed. “Jeez… It’s not like I can mean it, or anything. I’m soulless, remember?”

 

The princess sighed. “Flowey, if you truly didn’t have emotions you wouldn’t be so frustrated with Sans. You wouldn’t be scared of him, either, and don’t pretend you aren’t. You also wouldn’t be so angry with me for pinching you.  _ And _ you wouldn’t enjoy trying to scare me with your face-morphing tricks.” 

 

Flowey could only stare at her. Was she right? Did he actually still have emotions, or was he just fooling himself into thinking he had them because Frisk was convinced he did? He could never tell, when he was around her. But there was one thing he knew for sure. 

 

“I still don’t get you, Frisk.” Her only response was to smile at him. 

 

A commotion from outside intruded on their little moment. They could hear Papyrus yelling from outside.

 

“ ATTENTION,  HUMAN! THE CRIMES  YOU HAVE COMMITTED ON  THE SURFACE HAVE BEEN RELAYED  TO ME, AND THERE IS NOW A WARRANT  FOR YOUR ARREST! I, THE GREAT ROYAL GUARD  PAPYRUS, MUST NOW ARREST YOU! RESIST AT YOUR  PERIL!!! ”

 

Frisk’s blood ran cold as she thought,  _ *How did he get here so fast?!  _ She picked up Flowey and ran outside, finding Papyrus and her uncle standing on the far side of the black tree. 

 

She didn’t know why she expected her uncle to look different after less than two weeks, but he still looked the same. He was still middle-aged, but fit. His pale hair was the same, his face… and his eyes, too. Those dead, empty eyes that only lit with enjoyment when he was hurting someone. Hurting  _ her _ , especially…

 

He saw her. “There you are, you little  _ SHIT!”  _ he shouted. Frisk flinched, as though from a physical blow. His  _ voice _ was still the same, too! But he wasn’t done. “Do you have any idea how you’ve ruined me?!” He started walking toward her. “You’re paying for it all with your scrawny, worthless ass if it’s the last thing I-!” 

 

He was cut off mid-sentence, and mid-stride, by blue bones blocking his way. He had gated off access to Frisk, but this time there was no stepping through the bars. Papyrus then turned the his soul blue and floated him away, back to where he’d been before his advance.             

 

Papyrus’ voice was calm, but cold. “ I  MUST  ASK YOU  TO REFRAIN  FROM SWEARING  IN FRONT OF THE  PRINCESS. ”

 

Frisk’s uncle laughed. “You assholes made that little whore your princess? How stupid can you be!? No wonder you freaks lost the war and got shoved down here like so much shit in a hole!” 

 

He kept on laughing. Papyrus clenched a fist and his shoulders shook, unaccustomed to feeling angry with anyone. This uncouth human was being so  _ RUDE! _ He took a deep breath, trying to control himself, and tried one last time to reason with Frisk’s uncle.

 

“ HUMAN,  IT IS A  PERSONAL BELIEF  OF MINE THAT ANYONE  CAN BE GOOD, IF THEY  ONLY TRY. IT MAY BE HARD  TO MAKE THE RIGHT CHOICE, BUT  I STILL THINK YOU CAN DO IT. SO  I WILL ASK YOU THIS ONCE; PLEASE COME  ALONG QUIETLY AND PERHAPS OUR KING WILL GRANT  YOU MERCY, DESPITE YOUR CRIMES. ”

 

The man said nothing. He only smiled a smile that Frisk was all too familiar with.

 

“ _ WATCH OUT!!! _ ”

 

Although he had been sparing the man, Papyrus had still been on his guard. Undyne was right to warn him of such things during his intensified training. As the human charged at the royal guard with a shard of rock in his hand, Papyrus summoned a special weapon he had never used in combat, before.

 

It looked like any other bone, at first, but as he grasped one end it was revealed to be a sword. A rapier, to be specific. With perfect form, Papyrus flicked his wrist with speed and precision. He disarmed the human, inflicted damage amounting to exactly one-quarter of the man’s maximum HP in a series of shallow cuts, and ended the combo by lightly pressing tip of his sword to the base of the human’s throat. The skeleton still didn’t want to kill him, but he hoped his display of stupendous skill would make the human reconsider his decision.

 

However, Frisk’s uncle still wasn’t feeling reasonable. Before the guard could issue an ultimatum he grasped Papyrus’ sword, not caring that its edge could slice his fingers off, and pushed it away from his throat! Before Papyrus could recover the human’s left fist came up and punched him in the ribs.

 

The armor caved in. A bare-fisted punch shouldn’t have done anything, but it left an almighty dent in Papyrus’ armor, affecting his HP accordingly.  _ That _ was the strength of his intent to kill… There was no doubt in Frisk’s mind that, had Papyrus not been wearing that armor, or had his guard been lowered, he would be dead. But as of right now, he wasn’t.

 

Yet.

 

Although missing a sizeable chunk of his HP, Papyrus kept on fighting. He turned the human blue again, pushing him away before weighing him down. He sent a complex pattern of bone bullets flying, hoping to weaken the man into giving up. It hurt to breathe, but he couldn’t think of that right now! He had to protect his princess. He had to protect their little friend. As the princess’ uncle healed himself with something that looked like candy Papyrus finally understood, down in the very depths of his SOUL, that being a royal guard wasn’t about popularity or recognition but  _ this _ . It was about protecting everyone he knew and loved from those that would hurt them. It was a feeling he’d never known before, but he somehow  _ knew _ he had to hold onto it if he was going to win.

 

Frisk watched them fight from behind the gate, feeling helpless and berating herself. They should have kept on running. They should have just gone to Snowdin and warned everyone to evacuate the Underground. And now, unless some miracle happened…

 

“ kid! ”

 

The princess turned around, looking back at the house. Sans was already running toward her as relief flooded her body. But it was short-lived…

 

Papyrus cried out after being punched yet again by her uncle. He’d been hit so hard he flew through the air and hit the black tree, making it tremble and sending fallen leaves flying. He only had the barest sliver of HP left, and he was clearly having a hard time moving. The human was moving in for the final blow…

 

Sans saw him. His left eye glowed yellow as his other eye blackened. He lifted his left hand and Frisk took a step back as something  _ massive _ formed in the air above him. It was the gigantic, skeletal, disembodied head of some creature she had never seen! It opened its jaws wide, then fired a beam of pure magic straight at her uncle, forcing him to back away from the fallen guard.

 

Sans glanced at Frisk, seeing that she was alright (though she was understandably frightened.) He made himself smile, but it wound up looking somewhat rueful.

 

“ sorry, kiddo, ” he said. “ didn’t mean to scare ya. just hang tight for a little longer, okay? your old man and undyne will be here, soon enough. ” His smile faded as he said, “i ’ll buy us some more time. ” He took a shortcut to the other side of the bone gate, blinking out of and into existence with a burst of magic to stand between his brother and the human.

 

“ so! you’re frisk’s uncle? ” he asked, sounding almost friendly. “ gotta say, bud, she’s told us  _ a lot _ about you. ”

 

The human looked confused. “Who the fuck is ‘Frisk’?”

 

Sans wasn’t amused. “ hey. there’s a lady present. clean up the language there, friend. ”

 

Frisk’s uncle’s face flushed puce with fury. “Who the  _ fuck _ are you calling a lady!? That little bitch cost me  _ everything! _ Do you have any idea how much money I had tied up in those shitbag horses? How many people were lining up to kiss my ass for them? Then SHE goes and steals them all, after nearly killing me  _ and _ burning down my fucking stable!” 

 

He was almost foaming at the mouth now. “The little cunt is going to pay for it! Every pervert in a hundred miles is going to pay through the nose for a piece of her ass until the day she fucking DIES!” 

 

Even from where she stood, Frisk could tell Sans was getting angrier by the second, just from how tight his shoulders were getting. “ buddy, what did i  _ just _ say about language? you’re pretty much askin’ for a bad time. ”

 

Frisk’s uncle was sneering. “And what are YOU going to do, shorty? Grin me to death?” 

 

Sans shrugged. “ nah, just  _ this _ . ” He turned the human blue, throwing him up to hit the ceiling before slamming him down on the floor. Bones rose to pierce him briefly before disappearing (they did something to her uncle’s HP that Frisk had never seen, before, turning a portion of it a bright, purplish-pink as it slowly fell.) His soul was no longer blue when a wave of bones was sent in his direction. Sans then summoned more disembodied heads, smaller ones this time, surrounding the human and leaving hardly any room to dodge the blasts in. Somehow, he survived the onslaught, though just barely. Sans looked nonplussed. 

 

“ huh. normally that pattern does the job. guess i’m madder than i thought i was. it’s throwin’ off my aim. ” He just shrugged, again. His smile wasn’t friendly at all as he said, “ welp, now you’ve had a taste of what i can do! had your fill, bud? or will another serving be in order? ”

 

Frisk heard Flowey softly say, “He’s lying.” She made a sound of confusion, and Flowey looked up at her. “Sans is lying. He only misses if you dodge him properly. He’s holding back, for whatever reason.”

 

The princess was confused, too, but only for a moment. “If he’s a judge, he might not be able to make arrests, himself.”

 

As she spoke, Frisk’s uncle went on the offensive. He tried to hit Sans, but missed. The skeleton used to opportunity to turn the human’s soul blue, again, pushing him away and dragging him on the floor, then up into the ceiling into more bones. The way Sans used his blue magic was very different from Papyrus, throwing the man around as though he was a ragdoll… Part of Frisk was horrified by the brutality of it. Another felt a savage sort of satisfaction in her uncle’s pain. Another part hoped she  _ never _ angered Sans’ to the same degree. But though her friend seemed to have the situation under control, his hesitance to kill the human was becoming evident the longer he fought. Even her dim bulb uncle was picking up on it. All the while, Frisk fought her own feelings.

 

Helplessness warred with the need to Do Something, but what could she possibly do? She had vowed to the star that she wouldn’t be the kind of princess that  _ needed _ saving, but she didn’t have the strength to fight her uncle. Not the kind of strength her friends had. And, deep down inside,  _ she _ wanted to be the one to cause her uncle pain. It was ugly, that side of her, but it would be foolish to deny she felt that way. She would hide it as much as she could from everyone, but it was there.

 

Part of her own mind sneered at her. **_*And so you stand there, helpless._** **_Just like when he beat you to a pulp the first time. That was the day you realized no human would EVER come when you needed help the most._**

 

She remembered laying in the circle of bloodflowers, crying feebly for help. Just plain crying through swollen eyes had been the only thing she could do, after being hurt so badly. The sunset had colored the sky over her uncle’s ranch, setting it and Mount Ebott in the distance on fire. Frisk still remembered the feeling that scenery had awoken inside of her. The heat of her hatred had blazed, even as her mind coldly weighed her options. The beginnings of a plan had begun to take shape…

 

The back of her mind was no longer sneering. It was almost gentle as it said,  **_*That’s right. You’re not as helpless as you think. You’ve rewritten your destiny once. You have everything you need to do it again._ **

 

_ *But how? _ she asked herself.  _ *I have no tools, now. I could try giving Papyrus something to heal him, but I’d have to get past this gate first. And I don’t have anything that would heal him back to fighting shape...  _

 

**_*You don’t have to do that. All you have to do is remember._ **

 

_ *…remember what?  _

 

Frisk’s conversation with herself was interrupted by the fight. Sans had been moved from his position guarding his brother, leaving the fallen guard vulnerable. Her uncle aimed an attack not at Sans, but at  _ Papyrus _ . Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Frisk watched Sans desperately trying to protect his brother from the attack with a bone shield, but it wasn’t going to form in time. Even if it had, there was so much intent to kill it wasn’t going to matter. Frisk could almost feel the hate from where she stood.

 

Papyrus was going to die. Kind Papyrus, whose life-long dream had only just come true, was going to die. And it was going to be  _ all her fault _ .

 

From the depths of her soul, Frisk cried, “ _ NOOO!!! _ ”

 

The world pulsed. Like ripples in a pond,  _ something _ emanated from Frisk. As the princess caught her breath, she realized that time was truly moving at a crawl. Even Flowey was slowly blinking as a confused expression blossomed on his face.

 

Frisk’s soul was visible. She could feel something pulling on it, stealing her breath away and tiring her. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to last long. She was moving at a “normal” speed as she set Flowey on the ground and ran through Papyrus’ bone gate, not caring that it hurt. She stood between her friend and her uncle’s attack, unsure of what to do next. It was probably strong enough to kill her… 

 

Her lungs were on fire. It was spreading everywhere, but it was especially hot in her eyes and hands. Even as the attack got closer, even as she struggled to understand what was happening, she was determined to protect her friends. She was going to protect  _ everyone _ .

 

She brought her hands up and  _ something _ formed a shield in front of her, just as time resumed its normal flow. Frisk’s vision turned red as the attack was completely blocked, although she could feel the tremors of it moving through her body. She was breathing heavily as the redness faded from sight. Sans pushed her uncle away with blue magic as she realized what the redness was.

 

Pencils. She had somehow summoned a barrier of pencils made with red magic to block the attack. There was a pause in the fighting as everyone tried to comprehend what had just happened. 

 

“ PRIN… CESS…? ” 

 

Frisk glanced over her shoulder, at her injured friend. He was struggling to tell her to run, that she wasn’t safe, but she only shook her head. She said nothing, but she felt a new warmth moving from her soul to her right hand. A green pencil formed there, which she used to draw a heart in the air over Papyrus. It started beating, and with each pulse a little more of his HP was restored.

 

Sans was the next to gain her attention. “ kid, what’s going on? how’d you get here? have you  _ always _ been able to use magic? ”

 

The green pencil disappeared from her hand while Frisk shook her head. It was hard enough just to  _ breathe _ with her soul burning everything, much less speak… 

 

Her uncle roared. He was charging at her, now that she was finally unprotected. She could feel herself smiling, because he was oh SO wrong...

 

Their immediate surroundings darkened. Frisk’s uncle was trapped in a Fight and he ran into the invisible wall with a  _ thud _ . He launched an attack with his first turn, but she dodged it. For her turn she summoned a little red pencil to her hand and scrawled the air. The red scribbles flew toward her uncle and smacked him in the face, blinding him and shutting his filthy mouth at the same time. He wasted his next turn trying to get the marking off.

 

Frisk had a thought while he did, and she raised her right hand to make two pencils as tall as herself. They formed point-down upon the floor and she sent them scrawling across the floor to him, leaving a mark in their wake. They were a little unwieldy and went in a wider circle around him than she’d wanted, but it would do. She dismissed the pencils, but the marks were still on the ground…

 

Her uncle stumbled around until he stepped on one, and she made it  _ burn _ . The wall of flame surprised her uncle, sending him sprawling onto the other marking. That one burst, as well.

 

She didn’t care that she wasn’t doing very much damage. All that mattered was that she was keeping him right where she was. She had the strength to do that. She was  _ finally _ the one calling the shots, and she decided that playtime was over. Her eyes burned hotter while she smiled and finally spoke. 

 

**“About time.”**


	6. Bone Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we reach a tipping point...

* * *

 

_ “I’ve been wondering if monsters can get sick. How are they treated, if they can? What would they do if Frisk ever needed more medical attention than what Toriel can heal with her magic?”  _ -Francine I. Kane-

 

**Chapter 5: Bone Deep**

 

Sans felt the pulse of… something, right before Frisk suddenly wound up in the middle of the fight. It almost felt like magic, but at the same time it didn’t. Then, she started summoning those pencils all over the place, and those were  _ definitely _ magic. But the thing that was disturbing him most wasn’t her little “shortcut” (and he was pretty sure that wasn’t what happened), or the fact that a kid who never displayed magic abilities before now was suddenly using it (a little clumsily, yes, but still with more skill than a complete novice should display.) No, what sent chills up and down his spine were her eyes.

 

They were red. Eyes that were once a warm amber now blazed as red as her soul. It was almost like someone else, or some _ thing _ else, was looking out of her eyes… 

 

Whatever was going on, it was taking its toll on Frisk. She was obviously having a hard time breathing, so he could understand why she couldn’t talk. But when she finally did, it was almost like two people were talking at once, and that second person was trying to imitate her voice to make it echo.

 

**“About time.”**

 

She was smiling, but it wasn’t an expression he’d ever seen on her face before. It was like she felt an unholy glee in whatever she was about to do next. Sans had a very bad feeling… which got worse as Frisk raised her left hand, forming five red kitchen knives in the air. She sent them all flying at her uncle. Her accuracy suddenly improved and she stabbed them into both his elbows and both knees as the last one went into his belly. He fell to the ground, but the knives didn’t fade away. Frisk’s turn wasn’t over, yet. 

 

Her smile became even more disturbing (which should have been impossible) as she started rotating her wrist,  _ twisting _ the knives while they were embedded in her uncle. Even though it wasn’t doing much damage, that had to hurt… which the man confirmed by screaming out in pain. 

 

Sans shook his head, snapping himself out of his shock. He had to  _ stop _ this! Not so much for her uncle’s sake, but for Frisk’s.

 

He grabbed her raised hand by the wrist, leaving his left side turned toward the human on the floor, just in case. He jerked her hand up and away, pulling the knives out of her uncle as he did. Frisk stopped smiling and looked at him with a cool expression, eyes still glowing red. She said nothing, furrowing her brow at him in a silent question. Sans had one of his own.

 

“ kid, what d’you think you’re doing?! you’re gonna kill him at this rate! ”

 

When Frisk answered, her voice was soft and hoarse, as though she’d been screaming for a while. “Don’t you remember what I told you, in the Last Corridor?” The disturbing smile was back, as well as that weird effect on her voice.  **“I want him to** **_suffer_ ** **.”** Her forefinger was still mobile, so she pointed to the air above her uncle to summon a huge knife, forming it right over his chest. She brought her finger down and the knife started falling…

Sans wrenched at her hand again, driving the knife into the floor, just beside her uncle. The princess wasn’t amused, but neither was Sans.

 

“ _ look _ at him. there’s no need to kick him when he’s already down. ”

 

Frisk raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmph! That’s rich, coming from the man that was tossing him around like a ragdoll, just a moment ago.” Sans winced a little at that, but didn’t let it stop him.

 

“ that’s not my point! look, kiddo, i know what kind of damage guys like him can do. i know how much pain they can inflict, especially on kids. i can’t even  _ begin _ to tell you how many good kids i’ve seen them ruin by making them feel the kind of hatred you’re displaying, right now! ”

 

A little bit of amber came back to Frisk’s eyes as she said, “ _ He’s _ the one that hurt me first!”

 

Sans spoke as soothingly as he could. “i know, i know… i get it, okay? he’s hurt you, and made you feel helpless. now you’re thinkin’ it’s a good time for a little payback, right?” He shook his head slowly as he said, “believe me, frisk, it’s not.” 

 

The princess blinked at him. He hardly ever called her by her name. In fact, she was starting to think he had forgotten what her name was and called her “kiddo” as a way of covering it up. After getting her full attention, Sans continued.

 

“ it may feel good, right this second, knowing you have the strength to do whatever you want with him, but there’s something you need to know. magic isn’t something you just throw at people whenever you want. it’s an expression of your SOUL, a reflection of what’s going on inside of it. the way you decide to use it has a  _ massive _ impact on you. right now, you have a big decision to make. ”

 

There was a commotion coming from the house, but Frisk wasn’t paying attention to it. All of her focus was on Sans and her uncle, who had just wasted his turn groaning on the floor. Only two options were available to her now.

 

To FIGHT and kill him? Or to show MERCY and spare him? Frisk’s lips peeled back from her teeth as she looked to her right. Before she could tell Sans where to shove it, he was speaking to her, again.

 

“showing mercy doesn’t necessarily mean you’re showing forgiveness. no one is forcing you to forgive him for what he’s done. all we’re asking you to do is prove that you’re a better person than _he_ could ever hope to be. the kind of person you _have_ been, since you fell down here. ”

 

Sans finally released her hand. He tried to smile as he said, “i know you’ll do the right thing. i believe in you, kiddo. ” 

 

He moved to stand behind Frisk, looking toward the newcomers to the party. Papyrus’ bone gate had dissolved and Undyne was kneeling beside him, checking on him while the other guards took positions all around. Asgore was walking closer, looking at Frisk with an expression of concern. The vase Frisk had been holding tight when Sans arrived was on the floor. He thought he saw a face on one of the flowers, but when he blinked it looked like any other. He didn’t have time to ponder it before he heard Frisk groaning. It was soft sound, but audible nonetheless.

 

Frisk clutched at her head. The fire in her chest was now in her skull, threatening to split her forehead in two as her vision started to blur. Pins and needles assaulted her hands and she could hardly feel her own hair as she struggled with her own thoughts.

 

**_*The mad dog NEEDS to die! He’s never going to stop hurting people unless you put him down, NOW!_ **

 

_ *But killing him won’t help! Sans is right. I’ll just be stooping to his level if I keep going like this. _

 

**_*Whatever he did to the star is being negated, but only for now. That thing is too important to lose! If you don’t take this chance, you may never have another one like it. You have to stay determined!_ **

 

_ *Determined to PROTECT the monsters, NOT to kill him!  _

 

And that was what all this was about, wasn’t it? Protecting her friends, protecting all the monsters… that was all she really wanted to do. Protecting them from not just her uncle, but from anyone that would want to hurt them. But princesses weren’t above the law, and murderers couldn’t protect their loved ones from prison. 

 

Frisk’s limbs were numb and she could barely see, but she still raised her right hand and brought it down onto the Mercy button.

 

The fight was over. The little green heart Frisk drew with magic disappeared, though Papyrus’ HP hadn’t recovered even one quarter of the bar. As light returned to the room the guards were swooping in, surrounding the human man and cautiously restraining him. Frisk could no longer stand and almost collapsed, but Sans caught her before she could. He lowered her gently to the floor as Asgore ran to her other side. The king cradled her in his arms, as though she were a much smaller child than she was. He was so warm…

 

Asgore’s attempt to comfort Frisk only made her cry. Though she could barely talk, she still said, “It hurts… Why does he always make me hurt like this?  _ Why?  _ Papa, make it stop…!”

 

“Shhhh… I am here, Frisk” Asgore said softly, hugging her. “Your papa is here. You will be alright. That terrible creature will hurt you no longer, I swear it.” Both he and Sans looked up, watching the guards haul away the half-conscious man before returning their attention to the softly sobbing girl between them. Her eyes were open and back to their normal amber color… but what was supposed to be white was now badly inflamed. Moreover, something red was mixing in with her tears…

 

Sans didn’t like the looks of that. It had been a long time since he had researched humans, but… “ uh, asgore? i don’t think her tears are supposed to be that color… ”

 

Asgore shook his head. “They are not.” The king gathered his daughter into his arms to carry her properly as he said, “Frisk needs immediate medical attention.”

 

Sans nodded. “ papyrus does, too. we can use one of my shortcuts. ” He didn’t normally like using it in front of so many people, but this was an emergency. 

 

When he turned to collect Papyrus Undyne had already gotten him off the floor. She was walking toward them, supporting Papyrus as she did. She handed her subordinate over, saying she overheard them. The taller skeleton leaned gratefully on his shorter brother’s shoulder, making for a better crutch. After one last order from Asgore to make sure the human man made it to prison in one piece, Sans blinked the four of them to the doors of the Underground’s hospital, in the heart of the capital.

 

Asgore took the lead, Sans walking a bit more carefully so he didn’t jostle his brother’s abused ribs any more. By the time the two of them made it in, Frisk was being laid upon a gurney to be whisked away for treatment. Another was already being brought up for Papyrus, which Sans was grateful for. With the two of them in good hands, the king and judge took seats in the waiting area while they filled out the paperwork given to them by the receptionist. 

 

Sans was bone-tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for the rest of the day,  _ and _ throughout the night, but he didn’t think he could without having a nightmare or two. He could still see the smile on Frisk’s face as she twisted those knives… His bones tried to rattle as he shuddered, but he stopped himself before they had a chance. He had felt the anger in her soul, and seen the hate on her face long before anyone else had, but to think their little princess was capable of  _ that…! _

 

But as he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t all that surprising. How much did they know about Frisk, really? She had told them a great deal… but reading between the lines, she hadn’t been living with her uncle all that long before she decided to make a break for it. She was thirteen years old, which was more than enough time for other people to leave their mark on her. More than enough time for despair and hatred to just build and build…

 

Judging from the expression on Asgore’s face, he was probably thinking along the same lines. 

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

It was some time later. The worst of Papyrus’ injuries had been healed with magic, and he went right back to protecting his princess (when he should have been resting, himself). His breastplate was too badly damaged to be worn but he still stood outside her hospital room, wearing just the padded clothing over his torso that all the guards wore underneath their armor (and his old chain mail shirt over that). It looked a little bit silly, since he was still wearing the rest of his armor, but word had already spread about what happened to the princess and nobody felt like laughing. In fact, Greater Dog had joined him at his station, growling just a little bit whenever someone new came down the hall.

 

Frisk lay resting in her bed with a cool, damp cloth covering her eyes. She no longer felt like she was on fire, and her limbs no longer had pins and needles jabbed in them. She could breathe properly, as well. The doctor in charge of her case was keeping her comfortable, giving her potions for her body and eyes. Without truly knowing why using magic had made Frisk’s body react the way it had, that was the best she could do. Some tests had been done, and a special picture had been taken by a machine Frisk had never even heard of, but her mind had been too numb for curiosity. She was still struggling to understand what had happened, what she had almost let herself do…

 

She was under doctor’s orders not to use any magic while she recovered, but Frisk wasn’t sure she could repeat her feats, even if she tried. How many times had she wished for a magic spell to make her life better, when she was younger? Something to protect her when she needed it? As far as she could remember, nothing like this had ever happened to her, before. So why now? 

 

The back of her mind offered no insight, so she continued to lay in her bed, listening to herself breathe and feeling lonely. But she was used to that.

 

A few floors down, Asgore and Toriel were sitting in the doctor’s office to talk about the princess’ condition. As they sat in chairs waiting for her to appear, the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. The former queen had been  _ extremely _ unhappy with how Frisk had been injured after only a couple of hours under her “father’s” care. Only Sans’ intervention had spared him the full brunt of her wrath, but it had been hard. It was so very, very hard to keep herself from throttling the wretch, or torching him… She made herself remember Sans’ words.

 

“ it was another fluke of fate, ” her friend had said. “ the princess went to go convince a friend to come with her to the surface, and she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. then again, considering how many lives she saved by warning them, one could argue it was the  _ right _ place and time. ” 

 

He didn’t even need to mention how close he had come to losing his own brother. Toriel’s anger faded enough to realize he had to have been equally worried about Papyrus. And there were other monsters worried about family on the surface, wondering if their loved ones had been dusted by that despicable man…

 

The office door opened and Dr. Talia Flat walked in. She was almost the spitting image of her twin brother, the Earl of Sharpe, if one allowed for the fact that the doctor had muscles, skin and scales over her bones. And, despite being born on the same day, she was about twenty physical years older than her brother, because that was how old her first child was. But her position as one of the best doctors in the Underground owed nothing to nepotism, and she was the picture of professionalism as she bowed to the royals in her office.   

 

“Your Majesty, Miss Toriel, I apologize for making you wait. I had some research to do and had to confer with several of my colleagues about what we found in scans of your daughter. In the end, however, none of us is what anyone would call an expert in humans. Fortunately, I know two people that come closer to that title than anyone else, but neither of them is a medical professional. Still, with your permission, I would like to call them in here so that we may go over the images taken of the princess, together. I’m sure their insight would be invaluable.”

 

“Who, exactly, are these people you speak of, Doctor?” asked Toriel.

 

The doctor smiled. “They’re people I know very well. I believe you know them both, as a matter of fact. Comic Sans Gaster and the former royal alchemist, Alphys? They’ve probably learned more about humans than anyone else, besides the two of you. If they can’t shed any light on what I’ve found, I don’t know who possibly could.”

 

“What have you found that is so baffling, Doctor?” asked Asgore. 

 

“It may be easier to show you, Your Majesty,” said Dr. Flat. She walked to a large screen mounted on one of her office walls, turning it on to show them what she had on a small tablet she had brought into the room with her. For the moment, it was blank, but they knew it wouldn’t be for long.

 

“As you both know, most maladies suffered by monsters can be attributed to either a deficiency of magic in their bodies, or an overproduction of it. These abnormalities can be detected with a crystoray scan, allowing us to treat the monster accordingly.

 

“However, the princess is obviously not a monster. If she possessed no magic, the only thing I would expect to show up on a c-ray image would be her SOUL, that being the most magical thing present in her body.  _ This _ is the scan we took of Her Highness soon upon her arrival…” Dr. Flat tapped and swiped at her tablet, throwing the image onto the bigger screen to shock the already concerned parents.

 

Her soul was, indeed, very much visible… as was her ribcage surrounding it, the bones of her shoulders and arms, her skull and teeth… Her entire skeleton was on display, looking for all the world like any other skeleton child. Toriel and Asgore left their seats to walk closer to the screen, neither of them truly believing what their eyes were trying to tell them. 

 

The king was shaking his head. “But… Frisk told me, the day we met, that she was not a magician! If she had this much magic within her, why could she not use it?”

 

“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” the doctor said softly. “That’s why I would like to call Sans and Alphys in here. I simply don’t know enough about humans to say anything definite, one way or another.”

 

Toriel shook herself out of her shock to ask, “Did Sans not object to looking upon another’s bare bones? Especially a child’s?”

 

Dr. Flat nodded. “Yes, he did say he was uncomfortable with that. However, I believe he’s more concerned with the princess’ well-being than anything else. And I think some of his old, scholarly curiosity may be getting the better of him, as well.” She smiled wryly. Nobody could ever figure out why he left alchemy to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. He wasn’t telling anyone, either, but… “He’ll always be a huge nerd at heart, no matter his current occupation. Helping to solve a puzzle like this is right up his alley, if you’ll forgive me for likening your daughter a puzzle.”

 

“Doctor, I can think of no better analogy at the moment,” said Asgore. “I would not object if Sans and Alphys wish to help.” 

 

The doctor nodded to him as she said, “Thank you, Your Majesty. And you, Miss Toriel?” 

 

The former queen was unsure about how she felt about people that weren’t doctors seeing such a… revealing image of her child, and it was showing in her expression. But then Dr. Flat added, “If it helps at all, the princess was fully clothed when this image was taken. But, because they were all made with purely physical material, they don’t appear on the image in any way. I’ve informed Sans and Alphys of as much.” The doctor’s professionalism eased a bit as she smiled fondly and said, “They’re good people. They always have been.” 

 

After a moment of more thought, Toriel agreed, as well. She still had her misgivings, but she wanted all the help her child required. And, in all honesty, she was curious as to what her friend had to say on the matter. Sans had never mentioned that he had any background in alchemy although, from what she gathered from others, that had been a rather long time ago. She hadn’t even known he was the High Judge, and that he could have easily killed Frisk, had the child proven it to be necessary… If Toriel known all that, she wouldn’t have asked him to watch over Frisk. 

 

Or would she? She didn’t have time to ponder as Dr. Flat went to her office door, poking her head out and calling for someone to come in. She was soon followed by Alphys, with Sans bringing up the rear. Alphys bowed to her king, and Sans gave them a little wave and smile. 

 

“Hello, Sans. How is your brother doing?” she asked. 

 

He gave her the “okay” gesture with his hand as he said, “ oh, he’s fine. he’s already back on duty. like i’ve said before, nothin’ can keep him down for long! ”

 

“I am relieved to hear that,” said the queen. However, Sans himself seemed tired, despite the smile. Before she could comment on it, Sans and Alphys turned their heads almost in unison to look at the screen that still had Frisk’s c-ray image upon it. Their reactions were immediate, and simultaneous.

 

“ what the-!? ”

 

“OH MY GOD! I-i-is that FRISK?” 

 

The two of them joined Dr. Flat near the screen as Asgore and Toriel stood back to give them space. Alphys continued to stammer, even as she gazed at the image intently.

 

“I-I mean… I know you said you had taken a c-ray of Frisk, b-but this is… How can…? But she’s n-not…” She suddenly shot a dirty look to Sans. “I swear, if this is one of YOUR pranks…”

 

Sans only raised his hands in a placating manner. “ don’t look at me, al! i haven’t had the time to set up something this elaborate. besides, i wouldn’t prank  _ myself _ like this. ” 

 

He brought one hand up to rub the back of his neck as he said, “ this almost looks like one of those ‘x-ray’ things the old medical texts talked about, back when we were tryin’ to figure humans out. mind you, neither those books or the pre-war research ever mentioned anything about  _ this _ goin’ on in humans. but looking at this a little more… her bones don’t look quite right. ”

 

Alphys looked again, then nodded after a moment. “Y-you’re right… The magic in her isn’t very… even, is it? Talia, could you zoom in on Frisk’s skull for us?” 

 

Dr. Flat obliged, and they both winced as she said, “I see you both recognize the signs of sudden-onset magicalcification. It’s made the bone abnormally magic-dense in and around her orbital sockets. She presented with blurred vision in her eyes, inflammation and bleeding from her tear ducts, not to mention the ‘mother of all headaches,’ (her words, not mine). This would be uncomfortable enough, as a skeleton, but I postulate that whatever caused the sudden spike in the magic here very nearly torched her soft tissues.”

 

Alphys nodded. “Frisk will need an eye exam, and probably some kind of test for her neural function. We need to be sure there’s no permanent damage.”

 

Dr. Flat made a note on her tablet, then moved the close-up to the top of Frisk’s skull. She said, “As you can see, the magic isn’t nearly as dense here. We didn’t get an image of her facing the other way, but I would wager that her magic is practically paper-thin on the back of her skull. And, as we move down to her jaws and teeth, the density starts climbing again, but not nearly to the degree found around her eyes. As we move down to her ribcage, we find ‘normal’ levels for the average skeleton her age. Since this is where Her Highness’ SOUL resides, it makes sense that its magic would settle in those bones. 

 

“What does  _ not _ make sense is that there is no sign of the sudden-onset the rest of her body displays. This magic has been stable here for a very long time, possibly her whole life long. However, I cannot say that with any certainty. Moving on, we see more signs of sudden-onset in the bones of her shoulders, arms and hands. Although we can’t see it here, the soft tissues along the way were also affected adversely, but only temporarily. 

 

“As you can see, the magic is weakening the farther away we go from her SOUL.” Sans looked away as the close-up moved over Frisk’s hips. Everyone pretended not to notice as Dr. Flat continued. “Her lower half shows hardly any signs of magicalcification, except for some old, weakening traces in one spot on her right foot.”

 

Dr. Flat ended the close-up look, letting them all see the entirety of Frisk’s body, again. She turned to Frisk’s parents and said, “Were she a monster, I would prescribe a draught to help even out the flow of her magic, and an ointment to repair the brittleness this sort of inconsistency causes. However, since her tissues were adversely affected by her own magic, I’m reluctant to give her such a draught. And the ointment would be pointless since her physicality is probably more than enough to support her body. 

 

“I’m afraid the best I can do is ease her discomfort. That involves using potions to reduce her swelling and pain, but we have her under close observation and she seems to be responding well. Still, I wouldn’t want to attempt anything more than that, given what caused the damage in the first place.”

 

Silence fell. Alphys was wringing her hands, claws going clack-clack-clack. She muttered, almost to herself, “We’re going to have to go through the old research, again. Maybe we m-missed something…?” Sans nodded, then crossed his arms over his chest, hiding his hands in his coat’s loose sleeves as he pondered. He was staring at Frisk’s legs…

 

“ if i didn’t know any better ,” he said, “ i’d say she has osteoporosis. ”

 

Alphys was somewhat incredulous as she looked at him. “What? B-but I don’t think humans and monsters develop that disease the same way…”

 

“ no, they probably don’t, ” said Sans. “ in my grandma’s case, her magic was weakening as she got older, makin’ her bones more brittle. but the way some of frisk’s bones look… they have that same porousness grandma’s did before she passed away. ”

 

“Sans, I don’t get what you’re trying to say…”

 

“i ’m sayin’ that, maybe, frisk  _ used to _ have plenty of magic all over, but that might’ve been a long time ago. then it stopped, for whatever reason, and the magic weakened. then her body starts being magic again and she overproduced because of that fight, so she magicalcified. ” Sans turned his back to the screen as he said, “ it’s just a theory, and a pretty flimsy one. but it’s the only thing i can think of that’d explain the inconsistency we’re seein’, right now. ”

 

Dr. Flat looked thoughtful, but Alphys wasn’t completely convinced. “M-maybe… but then what stopped her being magic? Why did  _ this _ Fight restart its production, when all the Fights she ran into before the barrier came down hadn’t? Why isn’t any of her soft tissue showing up the way it would for any other monster’s body? W-well… besides a skeleton’s, of course.”

 

“ those are all great questions, alphys, ” said Sans. “ my only answer is ‘i don’t have a clue.’ but i know one thing, for sure… ” He paused, pointed to a certain spot on Frisk’s image, then closed one eye. “ nobody can  _ ever _ accuse our princess of being spineless. ”

 

The only person in the room to laugh was Toriel.


	7. Echo! Echo. echo...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk continues recovering from her ordeal. Feelings are felt.

* * *

 

_“Although Toriel and Asgore have their differences, I think they could find common ground in their love for Frisk. Especially if they ever needed them both, at the same time. It wouldn’t magically fix their relationship. I’m just saying I think they could get over themselves long enough to help Frisk.”_ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 6: Echo! Echo.** **_echo…_ **

 

Frisk was dozing when someone knocked on her door. She awoke with a start before saying, “Who’s there?”

 

She still had the cool cloth draped over her eyes, but Frisk heard the door open and Papyrus’ voice saying, “YOUR  HIGHNESS,  YOUR PARENTS  ARE HERE TO SEE  YOU.”

 

She sat up as she said, “Thank you, Papyrus. Let them in, please.” As he did, Frisk took the cloth off her eyes and blinked several times. Everything remained blurred splotches of color, but at least she wasn’t completely blind, or in any more pain. If anything, the pain medicine was starting to make her feel a little _too_ good…

 

Case in point, when her parents entered the room she burst out in a giggle fit. The walls were white, as was their fur, so all she could see were the vague shapes of their clothes moving closer. “Tee hee hee hee! Your clothes look like they’re floating! Papa’s beard, too!” She continued to giggle as Toriel and Asgore took seats on either side of the bed.

 

“I am happy to see you in such good spirits, Frisk,” said the king. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Giggly,” said Frisk. “You may want to tell the doctors to cut back on whatever they gave me for pain. It’s working a little too well, I think! Tee hee hee!”

 

“We will do so, my child,” said Toriel as she took one of Frisk’s hands into hers. “However… I do not believe that is all Asgore was asking.”

 

Frisk’s giggles suddenly stopped. She looked toward Asgore as he said, “Toriel is correct.” Asgore took her other hand in his. “I saw how you were vacillating between fighting and mercy… You were in more than just physical pain at that moment. So… how are you feeling, now?”

 

Frisk looked down at her own lap, not really focusing on anything (she couldn’t focus anyway, so that helped.) She didn’t know how to answer that question, but she didn’t really feel like lying to her parents, or herself, at the moment.

 

“I… I don’t know. It’s all so jumbled up I’m almost numb. I can’t pick one emotion to feel.”

 

“Then tell us everything you are feeling,” said the king. As Frisk remained silent, he gently said, “No matter what it is, your mother and I will not think any less of you, or stop caring about you. You are our daughter, our precious child. You brought the sun back into our lives when nothing but the dark surrounded us. You _are_ our sun! So please, tell us. What is clouding your skies, Frisk?”

 

Frisk thought she could hear the sincerity in Asgore’s words, though she almost didn’t want to believe it was there. But with big, warm hands holding both of her own, she felt so small… and safe. It was the first time she could _let_ herself feel safe. Toriel and Asgore were nothing like her human parents…

 

Frisk’s face threatened to crumple with the onset of more tears, but she stopped them just in time. She had never been such a crybaby on the surface, and it was high time she got a hold of herself. She still had the swallow a few times before she could speak.

 

“I… I’m just… I was so happy! I gained a father AND a mother that truly cared, the kingdom accepted me, I was set to learn even more about monsters than I could ever dream about… And then that… that THING falls into the Ruins when I go and see a friend! He just can’t leave me alone! He always ruins everything! _It’s not fair!!_

 

“I hate him. I can’t think of anyone or anything I hate more than him, but I _hate_ that I hate him! It makes me mad, knowing I can waste my energy on an emotion for someone I don’t want to feel ANYTHING for. But that doesn’t make the feeling go away. It just makes it worse.”

 

Frisk’s hands tightened on her parents’ as she went on. “And now… I don’t know how or why I used magic, but I chose to hurt him with it. …no, let’s face it, I _tortured_ him with it. I can’t believe I was capable of such a thing, but at the same time I can.

 

“Part of me didn’t want to stop. Part of me truly wanted to kill him, and I wanted him to suffer before he died. I wanted to give him just a fraction of the pain I felt every day I spent with him. The pain all the humans in my life have given me…” Frisk’s eyes were burning again, and this time she couldn’t control her tears. One of Toriel’s hands lifted to wipe it away, and Asgore started rubbing her back in soothing circles.

 

Both of them really were too kind… and Frisk didn’t feel worthy of it, at all. Not after what she did. Whether her parents were humans or monsters, she just couldn’t help but be a disappointment. Or a disgrace.

 

“I’m sorry… Mama, Papa, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be bad, but I am. I’m so sorry!” Frisk wanted to hide the way she was supposed to whenever she cried (because ladies weren’t supposed to cry in front of others), but the hands still holding hers wouldn’t let go. In fact, Toriel gently cupped her head in the hand that had wiped away her tears, leaning Frisk to one side so her head rested on one of Toriel’s shoulders. The former queen’s voice was soft, and a little husky as she spoke.

 

“My child, you are not ‘bad.’ Perhaps you _did_ wish to hurt your uncle… but whatever one part of you wished to do, I am certain all the rest wished for nothing but to protect us. _That_ part of you is what won the fight. In the end you chose ‘mercy’, as you always have, even though that man showed you none in the past. I am so very, _very_ proud of you, Frisk.”

 

The princess sobbed a little bit. She was unaccustomed to hearing anyone say anything positive about her, much less expressing pride in her accomplishments. The wary little girl deep inside her, the one that was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondered if Toriel had meant anything she said. She knew her current mother had no reason to lie, but she couldn’t help the feeling of suspicion.

 

Knowing she couldn’t completely trust the people around her was what kept her alive on the surface. Though she liked most of the monsters she came across, that wariness remained. Muted, perhaps, because of how openly monsters expressed themselves, but it was still present. The fact that she couldn’t bring herself to completely trust her new parents was yet more proof she didn’t deserve their kindness… or their love, if that was what it was.

 

Frisk was quickly becoming inconsolable, her sobs taking her to the brink of hyperventilation. Asgore and Toriel looked at each other, only to find a mirror of one’s alarm upon the other’s face. There was only one thing they knew to do when a child’s soul was in this much pain, but it was something they only ever attempted with their son. It would also require them to set all their differences aside, and to clear their own souls of the pain they had caused one another. None of their doubt, nor their self-loathing, could be anywhere near their thoughts…

 

Even after so long apart, they could read each other’s expressions perfectly. Frisk’s well-being was the most important thing, right now. They would do anything and everything that needed to be done, for her sake.

 

Toriel sat upon the bed, gathering Frisk into her arms and holding her tight. Asgore sat on the bed as well, but behind Frisk so he faced Toriel. There was only a fraction of a second’s hesitation before he wrapped his arms around his former wife, hugging her and their daughter at the same time. They brought forth all the warmth they possessed in their souls to embrace Frisk not just physically, but also with the magic in their souls, reaching for the closed-off core inside Frisk’s that contained all of her pain.

 

The princess could feel them. It was almost, but not quite like when Sans had judged her, with that bright yellow eye boring a hole almost all the way through her. She resisted them the same way she had back then, and tried to break free from her mother’s arms. Toriel held her fast.

 

“Shhhh… We only wish to help, my child” said the former queen softly. “You need to calm down. If our words will not reach you, then let our SOULs speak for us.”

 

Asgore’s deep voice rumbled in his chest as he said, “Your mother is right, Frisk. Please, tell us where it truly hurts. Let us make it better. Let us help our sun to shine again.”

 

They were both stopped by Frisk’s inner defenses, but it was no longer the wall she erected between herself and other humans to keep them from hurting her feelings more than they already had. It wasn’t even the relatively flimsy one Sans had run into, during her judgement. It had eroded into something like a cage, and her parents were trying to reach for her through the bars. Frisk’s deepest hurts were still out of their reach, and unwilling to come any closer. There was still so much fear…

 

Asgore spoke again. “I apologize if we are scaring you, Pumpkin, but please understand that we only want what is best for you. That includes your emotional well-being. We are here for you, and we always will be.”

 

One of the bars gave way, but only slightly. Frisk’s voice was small and fragile as she said, “…pumpkin?”

 

Asgore smiled, though she couldn’t see it. “Yes. Your eyes remind me of the big, orange pumpkins the humans would carve faces in for one of their holidays. At least, once they moved away from using turnips.”

 

Toriel laughed. “You are right! They _are_ that color. But personally, I would liken your eyes to the color of the sky at sunset. Or perhaps the tree leaves in autumn. Such a beautiful, unique color.”

 

The bars gave way a little more as she felt their sincerity. Nobody ever said they _liked_ the color of her eyes before… That and their narrow, “shifty-looking” shape had been why she started squinting so much, watching the world through her eyelashes.  She was trying to make herself look harmless (or at least less “shifty”), and hiding their odd color, too. That had brought on its own teasing, of course…

 

But Asgore and Toriel weren’t lying. Frisk could _feel_ that they weren’t lying. They didn’t feel anything bad toward her, despite everything she’d done. They weren’t trying to lure her into a false sense of security. They weren’t pretending to care for the sake of “appearances.” They just… cared.

 

The cage was too deeply ingrained for it to dissolve completely, but enough of the bars gave way that her parents could reach for Frisk’s inner self. The lonely little girl that Frisk hid deep inside was truly comforted for the first time in a _very_ long time.

 

Neither of the adults knew how long the three of them stayed that way, with Frisk bawling into Toriel’s shoulder as Asgore hummed a soft lullaby that had never failed to calm their son. But Frisk’s body and soul soon tired from the strain of her raw emotions.

 

Not all of Frisk’s hurts had been healed, but Toriel and Asgore knew an important first step had been taken, the most difficult one. They hoped the rest would be easier for her.

 

Frisk’s face was a mess as they laid her back on the bed. Toriel used a handkerchief to clean the worst of it as Asgore retrieved the magically cooled cloth that had been over Frisk’s face to start with. It went back over her swollen, puffy eyes, and he reflected that Dr. Flat might not be very happy about that… Frisk’s nose had also clogged because of the tears, making her sniffle even more, but there was no helping it.

 

She had bottled up her emotions, for whatever reason. She _needed_ to release them, before they festered into more of what let her use her magic in the manner she had.

 

Once Frisk was fully settled back in bed, another knock came from the door. Asgore called for whoever it was to enter. Dr. Flat came into the room, bowing to her monarch and giving a cordial nod to her patient’s mother. She gave Frisk a quick examination, noting how the redness in her eyes had backslid a little bit, and administered eyedrops to help with that. She made more notes on how effective the pain medicine had been, then asked to speak with the royals outside. After telling Frisk they would see her in a moment, they followed the doctor out of the room.

 

Cutting to the chase, Dr. Flat said, “I find it interesting that the pain medicine was so effective. I assumed her physicality would absorb most of it without any effect, so I based the dose on her weight. However… that is more than what skeleton of her size and magic density would need. Only slightly, but still more than necessary.”

 

Toriel pondered for a moment before saying, “Well… Perhaps it is not so surprising. She can eat alchemically-produced food with no problems or complaints. Her appetite is quite healthy, too.”

 

Dr. Flat became thoughtful. Slowly, she said, “That… just might explain how her magic is being distributed the way it is. She’s biting into the food, swallowing it, and as what little physicality it has reaches her stomach, the magic is absorbed into her bones along the way. Perhaps even her SOUL, as well. But that would only explain the upper half, not the one spot on her foot…” Several seconds of silence became a minute, then two before she shook herself out of her thoughts. “In any case, if Her Highness keeps improving the way she has, she can go home by tonight.” With a raised brow, she added, “Provided she gets the rest she needs.”

 

Asgore and Toriel got the hint. The doctor took her leave and they went back into Frisk’s room. The princess turned her face toward them, but kept the cloth on her face.

 

“The doctor had good news!” said the king cheerfully. “She says you can come home tonight, once you’ve rested a while longer.” Even while Frisk smiled a tiny smile at the news, Toriel cleared her throat softly and looked straight at him.

 

“Of course, we must decide _which_ home Frisk will be returning to,” she said. Asgore’s smile fell. He should have seen this coming…

 

Frisk’s voice came firmly from the bed. “Mother, don’t start.” A bit startled by her tone, the adults looked back down at her. She had one eye uncovered, no longer squinting. She was directing a mild pout toward the general area of Toriel’s face as she continued. “None of this was Father’s fault. By choosing to hurt my uncle, I wound up hurting myself. Besides, you two had an agreement. You can’t renege on it this soon, without a real reason to do so. I’m going home with Father, as I’m supposed to.”

 

The princess’ tone and gaze gentled as she said, “Mother, I know you’re worried, but Father and the guards will protect me. I just… need to let them do so, I guess.” _*Instead of trying to take matters into my own hands_ , she added to herself. Granted, Papyrus was alive because she had, but did she _really_ made things better? She didn’t know. She just didn’t want her parents to fight.

 

Frisk remembered listening to her human parents fight. It always made her feel so small and worthless to hear them arguing over her. Even though they hadn’t loved her, they’d often fought over having to raise her, anyway. How much money her nannies, clothing and education cost them. How all the time they could have spent on themselves was instead spent with her, to “keep up appearances”. They didn’t even spend THAT much time with her! Still, there was always something to argue about…

 

Her voice was tiny, and without realizing it she said, “Please don’t fight…” Even if Toriel and Asgore were fighting for different reasons, just feeling the tension between them was bringing all those old memories back.

 

It seemed like it was just that kind of day, where echoes from the past kept reminding her of how broken she was.

 

Asgore knelt beside the bed, bringing his eyes down to her level as he stroked the top of her head in a soothing manner. He looked into her uncovered eye and said, “There, there… We are not fighting, Pumpkin. Your mother simply raised a valid point, seeing as how we share custody.”

 

“But it’s _not_ valid,” said Frisk. “You both already agreed on where I’ll be living this week.”

 

“You are correct, my child,” Toriel said as she patted Frisk’s knee. “I let my concern cloud my judgement. I am sorry if that upset you.”

 

After thinking for a moment, Frisk softly said, “It wasn’t so much that as… old memories.”

 

“I still apologize, dear one. And… I apologize to you, as well, Mr. Dreemurr.” Asgore jumped a little in surprise, looking up at her with wide eyes as she continued. “Frisk was also correct in saying that you are not to blame for all that transpired today. None of this was your doing, yet my emotions got the better of me and made you into one of the villains of this day. I am sorry.” She inclined her head in a small bow

 

“Tori…” Asgore seemed off-balance, but then shook himself. “I-I mean Miss Toriel, there is no need for an apology, although I accept the one you have given. I blame myself, as well, for I allowed Frisk to wander the Underground with only the one bodyguard for protection. Under normal circumstances that would have been more than enough, but today has proven to be quite… irregular. But remember what Sans said; it was a fluke of Fate that brought the one man who would do the greatest harm to Frisk here. Thankfully, further tragedy was prevented because she and Papyrus acted as they did.”

 

Before anything more could be said, there was yet another knock on the door. This time, Papyrus came in, holding a vase.

 

“GOOD NEWS, PRINCESS!” said the skeleton with a big smile. “UNDYNE BROUGHT FLOWEY HERE, LIKE I ASKED!” He held up the vase full of flowers, and the two royals couldn’t help but stare at him with confused expressions.

 

“Is that my vase from the Ruins?” asked Toriel. Papyrus answered in the affirmative.

 

“Is that a golden flower in there?” asked Asgore.

 

Papyrus nodded, but then said, “FLOWEY IS NO ORDINARY GOLDEN FLOWER, YOUR MAJESTY! FOR YOU SEE, HE CAN TALK!”

 

He held out the vase, giving Flowey a stage upon which to display his vocal prowess… but he remained silent. Even his face was being hidden as the silence stretch on.

 

Papyrus was becoming embarrassed. “…FLOWEY? ARE YOU ALRIGHT? THERE’S NO NEED TO BE SHY!”

 

Flowey must have decided to throw him a bone, because he faithfully mimicked Papyrus as he faintly echoed “there’s no need to be shy!” Even as Papyrus gave his friend a very old-fashioned look, the royals still marveled at him.

 

Asgore left Frisk’s side to get a closer look. “A golden echo flower! Goodness, will wonders never cease?” Flowey echoed him, making him laugh, which Flowey also echoed.

 

Toriel, however, was puzzled. “You said this flower is from the Ruins, my child?” When Frisk said yes, she became more perplexed. “That is odd… There is only one place where the golden flowers grow, down there, and none of them have ever echoed before now…”

 

Frisk, figuring Flowey must be uncomfortable with all the scrutiny from his parents, decided to rescue him. “He’s special, Mother. That’s why Papyrus and I went all the way down there to collect him. In fact, Papyrus, why don’t you set him down on the little table, right here?” She vaguely waved to her left, indicating the small end table next to her bed. The guard obliged, and then left the room to resume his post after one last glance at Flowey.

 

Toriel sighed. She was puzzled by how her daughter and her friend addressed the flower as though it were a sentient being. And it also looked a great deal like the terrible creature that had been torturing Frisk, when she first arrived… but there was no time to dwell upon it. “I must be going,” she said. “I am sure there are people on the surface awaiting news of your condition. I must go and reassure them.”

 

The king nodded. “Yes, I must go, as well. An official statement must be prepared, and I must consult with Earl Sharpe.  The law is clear on what must be done when one dusts another, but things may have to be handled more delicately than normal, since this is the first human to commit crimes against us in a long time. He cannot be executed out-of-hand, now that we are no longer at war against humanity.”

 

Frisk clutched at her blankets. “Will I be in trouble, for hurting him?”

 

Asgore started patting her head, again. “No, no! Do not worry yourself, Pumpkin. You did nothing wrong. Miss Toriel was right; you were protecting your friends and yourself from harm, no matter what else you did.” Frisk didn’t look very reassured, but she nodded, anyway. The princess was tucked in, then the royals left the room to let her rest, dimming the lights as they did. Outside her door, they spoke softly to one another.

 

“Is she truly without blame?” asked Toriel. “According to Sans, she started a true Fight, trapping her uncle in a proper field. She was clearly acting as the aggressor, though how she figured out how to start a Fight is more than baffling… I certainly never taught her how to do so!”

 

“I do not know,” said the king. “Perhaps she was responding to some deep-seated instinct? It makes me wonder if Sans was correct in thinking that Frisk was once capable of magic, then lost the ability for an unknown reason.”

 

Toriel frowned thoughtfully. “She must have been very, very small when she could still use it. Too small to be taught these things.”

 

Asgored nodded. “It is a puzzlement. But Frisk is a highly intelligent youngster. Perhaps she figured it out simply by journeying through the Underground?”

 

“Perhaps…” Toriel seemed unsure, and Asgore almost placed a hand on her shoulder to offer comfort, but stopped himself just in time. After feeling her soul next to his for the first time in ages, he had almost forgotten all the pain he had caused her, and the pain her absence had caused him. He was fairly confident his touch would be unwelcome, now that they weren’t trying to comfort Frisk. He withdrew his hand and hoped she didn’t notice.

 

“In any case,” he said briskly, “I am sure everything will be made clear, in time. For now, all we must do is be there for Frisk. It is clear to me that she has been alone for a very long time. Perhaps she will reveal more about herself once she feels more secure in our love for her.”

 

Toriel finally nodded. “I agree.” She saddened as she said, “Her soul… it felt like such a small child’s. It is no wonder she ‘slips’ so much in her language, and keeps regressing in demeanor.” Her expression hardened. “She has never stated they did so, but my suspicions that Frisk’s parents mistreated her keep moving closer and closer to validation.”

 

Asgore nodded, his expression grim. “Mine, as well. However, we know Frisk’s human parents are already gone. We can do nothing about the past. We must concentrate upon our future with our daughter.”

 

Toriel nodded in agreement.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

After her parents left the room, Frisk started her own quiet conversation.

 

“Was it necessary to make Papyrus look like a fool?”

 

Although her eyes remained covered, she could imagine Flowey revealing his face to roll his eyes. “Well _excuse_ me, Princess, for wanting to stay incognito!” He huffed. “Look, I’ve learned that it’s best if nobody knows I can really talk, okay? Especially those two. Papyrus only knows because he’s always been a useful tool, even before you came into the picture.”

 

“But Asriel, they’re your parents…”

 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not Asriel! Even if I was, they don’t deserve a son like me, not after everything I’ve done.” He paused then said, almost against his will, “I can’t love them, Frisk. I _tried,_ but I just can’t.”

 

Frisk shook her head. “Flowey, if you can say they don’t deserve a son like you, you love them. Even if you can’t feel it, it’s in there, somewhere.”

 

Flowey sighed. “I still don’t know if you’re right, but I’m not going to argue. Something tells me I’d lose.” Seriously, he became a freaking GOD, twice over, and she still beat him each time. Speaking of which… “Hey, Frisk?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Why didn’t you use magic sooner? I mean, that first time we fought when I had the just the six souls, you used plenty.”

 

“I did? When?”

 

“You seriously don’t remember…?” Flowey leaned forward in the vase, toward Frisk. “It was when you kept hitting me and my HP depleted, before I loaded my file to undo it all? You were using all kinds of magic then!”

 

“I don’t…” She knew what he was talking about, but… “I didn’t realize that was magic. I was just… feeling.”

 

Silence fell. Flowey eloquently summed up his confusion with a firmly stated, “Huh?”

 

“I don’t know how else to explain it,” said Frisk. “It’s just… Did you know I was calling for help the whole time we were fighting?”

 

“No… Not that I noticed.”

 

“Well, every now and again, you would stop moving. I’d go… somewhere else, and then I’d be able to call out to someone. All of the souls answered. They would even heal me with a little bit of magic. Each time they did it felt a little different, like each individual’s magic was as unique as their soul. Once I had called out to all of them, and we started fighting in earnest I just… remembered those feelings. The way they helped me echoed within my heart, and I eventually triumphed… sort of.”

 

More silence fell. Flowey was stunned, and Frisk was contemplative. She hadn’t been thinking about her fight against Flowey very much, if at all. She hadn’t forgotten, but she tried not to remember if she could help it. Given how many times he had torn her to shreds with vines, or had those toothy, thorn-covered balls swallow her, or blew her up, or…

 

Frisk forced herself to focus on something else. She wondered if that had been what the back of her mind meant by “remember.” She wondered if she could still use those particular abilities… but she was under doctor’s orders to not use any magic. It would have to be an experiment for another day, if she decided to conduct it at all.

 

Today had been different. Fighting her uncle had been _very_ different from fighting Flowey. The feelings, in particular were hotter, and their jagged edges had grated on her soul. They came from the part of her deep inside that resented the way she had been treated by him and others, and wanted to strike back. It was that same part of her which let her deliberately plan setting her uncle’s property on fire, long before she ever reached the mountain that had always loomed in the background of her life.

 

“I don’t know if I can use those abilities again,” said Frisk, “but I do know one thing. ‘Determination,’ is proving itself to be even more than I thought it was.”

 

Frisk reached up behind her head, fluffing up her pillow before laying her head back upon it. After making herself comfortable she asked Flowey, “Can you tell me how you gained your powers?”


	8. I'm All Ears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this day ever going to end?

* * *

 

 _“Opening up is really, really hard. But it’s something Frisk will have to do. Eventually.”_ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 7: I’m All Ears**

 

The late afternoon sun shone upon the forest near the monster’s camp. It felt warm on Alphys’ scales as she followed the path carved out by someone. Fallen trees with jagged stumps lined the path, some with magic spears still stuck in them.

 

Everyone needed material to build new houses with, but this was taking things a bit far…

 

She finally found the end of the path. A great big tree dominated the middle of a clearing, and Undyne was punching it with her bare fists. Patches of bark were breaking off, but it was proving to be a worthy opponent as it otherwise withstood blow after blow. Alphys hung back, watching as Undyne relieved her stress on the tree and thinking.

 

She fully intended to go back to the Lab. She still had to review all the pre-war research on humans that was somehow saved during the retreat. She and Sans still needed to figure out what happened to Frisk. But for now, something else was just as important. Someone else, to be more precise.

 

Alphys guessed how today’s events would affect Undyne. Not being able to save those monsters who were dusted, arriving late to a fight only to find her friend upon death’s door, _and_ missing out on the chance to tear Frisk’s uncle to shreds, herself? It had to be eating at her. It clearly WAS eating at her. Seeing Undyne venting her frustration this way only confirmed her hypothesis. The problem was that Alphys didn’t have any real idea of where to begin helping to alleviate it…

 

Even so, she felt compelled to do something, _anything_ , to keep her magnificent mermaid from doing something regrettable. Something which would probably force Asgore to take away her position as head of the Royal Guard.

 

Alphys approached, moving to Undyne’s right side so she wasn’t in a blind spot. She cleared her throat, then tried to say her… more-than-just-a-friend’s name, but she was so nervous! She always felt so jittery and fluttery and oh-so-very _warm_ inside whenever she tried to talk to Undyne! It was hard, but she managed.

 

“U-u-uh… Un-d-dyne?” After one last roar, and a punch that vibrated the whole tree, Undyne turned to Alphys, making the alchemist’s breath catch in her chest and setting her face on fire with a blush.

 

Long, red hair pulled into a tail atop her head… scale-covered muscles glistening in the sun… her tall, firm figure covered in practical clothing which _still_ sent Alphys’ imagination to places it REALLY shouldn’t be going right now…! Even as she gave her love a nervous smile and a wave hello, all she wanted to do was crawl under a rock, or hide in a trash can, or SOMETHING. That or wrap herself around Undyne’s leg and never let go. The two urges were at war in her head, and she could only hope her feelings weren’t putting a stupid expression on her face.

 

Undyne, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. “Hey, Alphys! What’s up?”

 

Alphys’ smile was plastered onto her face. “Oh, n-not much… I j-just wanted t-to check in on you… I-I mean, not that you need me to! But I was just… w-worried… about you…”

 

Realizing what she just said could sound like she thought Undyne was weak, Alphys waved her hands through the air, trying to wipe her words from it. “N-n-not that I think you need someone to worry about you! I-I mean, you’re UNDYNE! Head of the Royal Guard! You’re unbeatable! B-but I still…”

 

She faltered. Undyne had to think she was being stupid… But if she did, she said nothing. Undyne knelt down to her level, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. “I’ve been worried about you, too,” she said. “It couldn’t have been easy, watching those people die.” Alphys went stiff, but she still nodded.

 

It _hadn’t_ been easy. Sitting there, feeling helpless, watching as their dust floated away in the breeze. Seeing the horrible smile on that man’s face as he followed his dogs to the hole above the Ruins. Watching his dogs trip him, making him fall practically on top of the princess’ head. Knowing what he’d do to her if he…!

 

Alphys sniffled, burying her face in her hands, her tail wrapping around her feet. She shivered as she tried to put those thoughts out of her mind, but they almost lost Frisk! If the princess hadn’t started using magic when she did, they WOULD have! She would have lost one of the few true friends she had…

 

No. She would have lost TWO friends. Papyrus would have died right alongside her. God only knew what that would’ve done to Sans… The thought made Alphys shudder.

 

“Thought so,” said the guard. Undyne turned her face away from Alphys, her lips working as though she wanted to spit on the ground. As if she didn’t have _enough_ reasons to hate that bastard’s guts! She understood the order to haul the piece of trash to the Prison in one piece. She understood that things needed to be done “by the book” because they weren’t at war, anymore. But just because she understood didn’t mean she liked it. Thank goodness Frisk had proven herself to be stronger than him…

 

Undyne realized something and muttered to herself. “I owe Frisk an apology.” Alphys heard her, making a soft sound of confusion as she looked up. Undyne sat on the ground with a groan.

 

“I can’t _believe_ I need to apologize to the punk, but I have to!” she shouted to the sky. Seeing that Alphys was still confused, she elaborated.

 

“I called her a coward once, because all she did was run from me. But now… I know that’s not true. She’s proven what she’s made of, now that she has people to protect. That probably means she was _never_ a coward, no matter what it looked like back then.” She lowered her head into her hands. “NGAHH! I HATE being wrong!”

 

“I-I… think I can relate…” Alphys said as she sat beside Undyne. “Just when you think you have her figured out, Frisk proves there’s so much more to learn about her. But one thing is for sure.” She looked into Undyne’s eye and said, “She’s a good person, even if she did… go a little overboard today.”

 

Undyne smiled and laughed. “Fuhuhu! I think it’s no less than what that animal deserved! But you’re right, she IS a good kid… for a little punk.”

 

They sat together, smiling at one another, before Undyne became thoughtful. Alphys tilted her head a little to the side, wondering what could have brought on the change in her expression. Suddenly, a little blush crossed her cheeks, and Alphys learned what she’d been thinking about…

 

“Hey, Alphys… Are we dating?”

 

 _*Ohmygod did she just-!_ Alphys gasped, her entire body flushing as she stammered. “Wh-wh-WHAAA!? Y-y-you? A-a-and m-me? But I’m not-! And you’re-!” Alphys shut her mouth before she said something that could be construed as a negative. She tried to get a hold of herself, her soul pounding as she grabbed her coherency with both hands and forced her mouth to work properly. “Wh… wh-why do y-you ask?”

 

Undyne was blushing, too, as she said, “Well, it’s just that… We’ve held hands, and smooched on the cheek a couple times since coming to the surface, but we haven’t really SAID we’re dating. So… are we?”

 

Alphys said nothing, her body blushing even brighter. Her mind was at war with itself, again. Half of her wanted to scream “YES!” at the top of her lungs, then throw herself into Undyne’s arms. The other half wanted the planet’s crust to open up and swallow her whole, because she didn’t deserve to date someone as outstanding and magnificent and strong as Undyne. Being more-than-friends was amazing enough! To take that next step into official dating, though…

 

“Alphys? You okay?” Undyne had come closer, pressing a hand to her forehead to feel her temperature. “You’re burning up! Do you wanna move out of the sun?”

 

Alphys couldn’t take any more. It was all too much. She let out a little “eep!” before covering her face with her hands, falling backward to lay on the ground. She curled her body into the smallest ball she could manage and lay there, blushing.

 

Undyne didn’t know what to make of things for a second, then laughed. She lay on her belly next to Alphys, propping herself up on an elbow as she looked down at the cute little lizard that had nerded her way into her heart. She smiled and said, “Y’know what? We’re totally dating, okay?”

 

After a minute Alphys finally said, in a tiny voice, “…ok-k-kay.”

 

Undyne’s grinned, then smooched the top of Alphys’ head as she pulled her c-phone out of her pocket.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Frisk lay in contemplative silence after listening to how Flowey came to be, and how he discovered his ability to repeat time again and again. But there was one thing bothering her…

 

Whenever he spoke the name of the first human to fall into the Underground, their name was covered up with hers. She made Flowey say it, again and again. She asked him to spell it out and still the name kept being “Frisk,” even though that wasn’t it.

 

Flowey, too, was baffled. “I don’t get how this is happening,” he said. “I’m saying and spelling it right. How can you not hear it?”

 

The princess shrugged, still laying on the bed with her eyes covered. “It’s like someone’s mimicking you as you say it, overriding what you say,” she said. “It’s as though there’s an especially loud echo flower in my head. The thing is, this has already happened several times. Long before I ever met him, I heard Father encouraging me to stay determined whenever I died.”

 

“That’s… weird,” said Flowey. “I never heard anybody whenever I died. I just… reached for the star and came back.”

 

Frisk hummed thoughtfully, leaving her friend to his thoughts as he left her with hers. They both jumped a little bit when Frisk’s phone chimed. It was the notification of an update on Alphys’ Undernet page…

 

“Oops… I think I was supposed to turn that off when I came here.” She rose from the bed, removing the cloth from her eyes and marveling at how quickly her vision had recovered. Things were still rather blurry around the edges, but at least she could see Flowey’s face, now.

 

She checked her phone, and laughed. Undyne posted a picture of her and Alphys on the alchemist’s page. She was hugging Alphys to her chest as they lay on the forest floor, smiling hugely. Poor Alphys was blushing all over, looking immensely pleased and horribly embarrassed at the same time. Unfortunately, she still couldn’t read the caption below the picture. Still, Frisk guessed the purpose and congratulated them on making their relationship official. She had just turned her phone off when…

 

**Knock knock**

 

“Who’s there?”

 

“dijon miss”

 

“Dijon miss who?”

 

“me, of course!”

 

Frisk had to think about that one. _*Dijon…di-jon…did-jyan… Did John miss who? Or maybe he meant ‘did ya’…? Either way-_ “I think you stretched that one a little far, Sans.”

 

“they can’t all be gems, kid. so, can i come in?” She told him he could, and Sans strolled on in. She could just barely see Papyrus with his face to the sky, jaw clenched tight as the door closed…

 

Frisk was sympathetic. “Papyrus didn’t like that one, did he?”

 

Sans was unrepentant as he said, “not one little bit. it’s how i know he’s okay.” He sobered a bit before saying, “speakin’ of which, how‘re you feelin’?”

 

“Better,” Frisk said with a smile. “I can actually see faces, now. If you had come any earlier, I wouldn’t have been able to tell your head apart from the wall. Your coat would’ve been floating in mid-air...” She stifled a giggle, remembering when her parents first arrived in the room.

 

Sans chuckled, too. “that’s good to hear! but, uh… that’s not all i was askin’.” He looked around, then pulled a chair closer to the bed, sitting on Frisk’s left side as his expression became more serious. “i’m also asking how are you _feeling_?”

 

Frisk’s smile faded, wondering how many times that same question was going to be asked, today. Still, she figured there was no point in lying to Sans, either, so she said, “I feel like I’m still cleaning up a mess, I suppose? I’m still a bit jumbled up, inside… though not as much as when my parents were here, earlier.” She sighed. “I’d rather not talk about it, again. Could we please change the subject?”

 

Sans shrugged. “talkin’ it out can be good for you, y’know. but we can change the subject, for now.” Frisk hid a sigh of relief, just before he said, “d’you mind if i check somethin’?”

 

Softly, Frisk said, “…you mean you want to Check my hidden numbers.”

 

He winked. “heh, paps was right. you ARE a smart cookie. so, what d’you say?”

 

Frisk was pouting. “We both know it’s likely to have risen, after what I did. Is it really necessary?”

 

“kinda, yeah. the hidden values can be… tricky.” He looked serious as he continued. “hidden LV doesn’t always rise proportionately to the actions taken. it’s based almost purely on how much intent you’re directing toward your target. so, even if you don’t do a whole lot of damage, the values can still rise more than you’d think. that can lead to… more bad times, if it’s not handled right.”

 

Frisk thought for a moment, before saying, “…if you must.”

 

Sans straightened in his chair. He said, “here we go,” before letting his eye glow as he reached for Frisk’s inner self.

 

He could still feel her reluctance to let people in, but the wall he ran into before was patchier, now. He could actually see all the way through, despite her desire to hide. Her feelings _and_ her numbers were much clearer than they’d been during her judgement. What he found surprised him.

 

He stopped glowing, stunned. He covered it up with a smile as he said, “it hasn’t risen as much as i thought it would. that’s great, kiddo!” But though he was glad, he was equally confused. As much as she wanted to hurt her uncle, he figured Frisk’s hidden LV would’ve gone up much more. The base value for her DEF had fallen a little, but since her inner wall was crumbling that wasn’t so surprising. Still, one question plagued him.

 

Where did all that intent go? He could feel it, somewhere in there, but it wasn’t in the very core of her being, nor was it being reflected in Frisk’s numbers. Any of them. That was unusual, to say the least. It made him think to himself, * _our little princess is just full of surprises, isn’t she?_ Especially since he’d seen how small and helpless she felt, deep down.

 

His smile became rigid and mask-like. Frisk had been through too much in her short life, even before falling down here. And he let Asgore kill her _twice_ , before going wherever the hell she went to die even more. No wonder she looked so tired when she finally rewound time and came back…

 

“Sans?”

 

Sans rattled as he jolted his thoughts back to the present. Frisk looked worried as she tentatively reached for him, looking unsure if she should, or not. She started to retract her hand, but Sans caught it. He squeezed it gently and said, “you’re fine, so i’m fine, kiddo.”

 

Frisk wasn’t entirely convinced. But she squeezed his hand in return and said, “I haven’t said this yet, but thank you. Thank you for stopping me when you did. I… I might have killed my uncle, if you hadn’t.”

 

“think nothing of it!” He winked as he added, “of course, if you feel like you owe me, you could always treat me to grillby’s…”

 

Frisk smiled. “I’d like to, but I’m not sure I can afford it.”

 

“heh heheh! you’re catchin’ on!” He let go of Frisk’s hand and sobered. “seriously, though. take it easy, okay? focus on recovering from whatever-it-was that happened.”

 

The princess frowned, asking, “Why _did_ using magic do that to me? Nobody’s told me anything, yet. Do you know, Sans?”

 

He shook his head. “we’ve got some theories, but nothin’ concrete, yet. me and alphys are helpin’ talia figure it out by goin’ through some old research tucked away in the lab. _really_ old stuff, from before we got trapped down here.” He shrugged with shoulders and hands as he said, “i dunno how much it’ll tell us, but it’s all we’ve got to work off of.”

 

Frisk started toying with her locket, thinking. “I… I’ve read a lot of books, but it’s really hard to find information on magicians. It’s as though they all just… disappeared, after the monsters were sealed away. I’ve never heard of any human using real magic. It’s always been the stuff of fairytales, to me. If… if you find anything out, would you please tell me?”

 

“of course!” Sans raised a brow ridge at her. “what, you thought we’d keep you outta the loop?”

 

“Well…” Frisk blushed sheepishly. “After what I did to my uncle, I’m not really sure if I _should_ know anything about using magic. But… I would at least like to know why I’m able to use it, all of a sudden.”

 

Sans was serious, again. “so… you’ve never, ever used magic before today? not even once in your whole, entire life?”

 

Frisk shook her head. “Not that I can recall, no.”

 

“what if you were _really_ little when you used it? you could’ve just forgot.”

 

Frisk stopped toying with her locket to press that hand to her chest. “Possibly? I don’t know… Can anyone _really_ forget that kind of feeling?”

 

“it might’ve felt different, back then,” Sans said gently. “magic isn’t always about attacking and takin’ people out. you can use it for fun things, too.”

 

“I… I didn’t have a lot of fun, growing up,” Frisk admitted. “I spent most of my time studying.” She’d had to, before her parents decided to kick her out for being too much of a disappointment, or some other excuse. “The most ‘fun’ thing I did was making the sorts of sketch journals you’ve seen. Although with more scientific notations.”

 

Which her human mother hadn’t approved of, at all. Such things weren’t what she gave Frisk her first journal for. She could still remember the look of disgust on the woman’s face when she proudly presented her first sketch of a _Narcissus pseudonarcissus_ … Or rather, one of the daffodils from the garden.

 

Sans brought her back to the present with a question. “then how’d you get so good at puns?”

 

Frisk actually laughed, a little. “Oh, that? Mr. Case, one of my tutors, introduced me to them, and wordplay in general. Mr. Justin Case.” She paused long enough to let Sans chuckle at the name. She was grinning, too, but her expression quickly fell. “He… wasn’t my tutor for very long. He made me laugh too much, even though he taught me so many things. Mr. Kane didn’t like that.”

 

Sans’ eyes narrowed slightly. “…you call your dad mr. kane?” Frisk clamped her mouth shut, because she hadn’t meant to talk about that, at all. Seeing that Sans asked, “what’s wrong, kiddo?”

 

Frisk sighed. “I… wasn’t supposed to talk about my home life, growing up. I wasn’t supposed to talk like this with anyone. I don’t know why it’s so easy with you, even if you are ‘all ears’.” Frisk paused for a moment, then grinned before adding, “Although your questions make you seem a little nosey.”

 

He grinned back, buffing non-existent fingernails on his coat before admiring them. “what can i say? i just get under people’s skin.”

 

“Mainly when you’re ribbing them, I bet.”

 

“at least i’m not pulling their legs!”

 

“Maybe so, but you toe the line.”

 

“only when they **kneed** a laugh.” He finally managed to get a little chuckle out of Frisk with that last one, but it seemed like that was all he was getting, for the moment. She became serious again, amber eyes open and worried.

 

“Sans? What’s going to happen with my uncle? Is he going to stay in prison, or will he be released until whatever trial you’re going to give him?”

 

“we’re NOT letting him go, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said firmly. Definitely not if _he_ had any say in the matter…

 

“But you can’t keep him forever,” Frisk pointed out. “I don’t think you can just… ‘disappear’ him. Even with Mount Ebott’s reputation, it’s not going to hold any water if I show up all of a sudden after being here, and he doesn’t. That might have a negative impact on any future monster/human relations.”

 

“thinkin’ like an ambassador already, kiddo?” Sans patted Frisk’s head as he said, “you raise a good point, but let me and dante figure out what to do with your uncle. asgore, too.” He moved his hand to her shoulder. “no matter what, we’ll never let that animal touch you again. we’ll all look out for you, so don’t worry, okay?”

 

“…okay.” Frisk’s worries hadn’t been magically dispelled, but they’d been lightened enough that she could dredge up a smile for Sans, which he returned. Then he stood, stretching as he spoke again.

 

“weeeelp, that old research ain’t gonna go through itself. i swear i’m gonna sleep for a week, after all this.”

 

“I don’t think Papyrus or Lady Pristina would like that.”

 

Sans winked. “i’ve got lots of hidey holes they don’t know about, kiddo. places that’re great for nappin’ undisturbed. they’ll never find me.

 

“anyway, there’s just one last thing i wanna ask before i go.” He jabbed a thumb toward Flowey. “what’s with the weed in the vase?”

 

Flowey, who’d been hiding his face since the knock-knock joke, struggled to keep it that way. The smiley trashbag was ALWAYS calling him a weed! No matter how many timelines, no matter how many times he reset, Sans never missed an opportunity to put him down. It was just one more mark in the “yes, he remembers me” column, but the fact that Sans never killed him on sight for everything he’d done to his family was a mark in the “no, he doesn’t” column.

 

Was it all in his subconscious, or something? Flowey didn’t know. All he knew was that he did NOT want Sans to fully remember everything. That was a surefire way to “have a bad time”, as the idiot always liked to say. And since Flowey could no longer reach his star, it would be the last one he ever had…

 

While those thoughts were running through her friend’s head, Frisk scolded Sans. “Flowey is NOT a weed! He’s special! He can do a trick, just watch.” Frisk pulled the vase into her arms, then held it in front of her face as she said, “Howdy!” Flowey mimicked her, even harder than he mimicked Papyrus. If there was one person besides his parents that Flowey ever wanted to fool, it was Sans… who raised a brow ridge at them.

 

“a golden echo flower?” he asked dubiously. “ _this_ is the ‘friend’ you and paps went all the way to the ruins for?”

 

Frisk nodded, lowering the vase to her lap as she smiled brightly. “Isn’t he cute? I heard him talking, one day, out of the blue! Now that everyone can live on the surface, I thought the sun and fresh air would do him good.”

 

Sans was dumbfounded. “…he? _him?_ ”

 

Frisk pouted. “Doesn’t your pet rock have a gender?”

 

Sans looked mildly offended (though Frisk suspected it was an act, for humor’s sake). “of course rockwell has a gender! she’s a girl.”

 

Frisk’s expression and voice were neutral as she said, “…you named your female pet Rockwell.”

 

With a nod, Sans said, “yep! named her after my granddad, after he passed away. rockwell nova. she got me and paps through some hard times…”

 

“Let me guess. She was your ‘rock’.”

 

“heheh, yep! she’s been a solid presence in our lives ever since.”

 

Frisk giggled. She just couldn’t help it! She only brought up Sans’ pet rock as a way of distracting him from Flowey. She hadn’t expected to learn anything like that! Flowey being forced to mimic her laughter wasn’t helping.

 

Sans couldn’t help but smile at the sound. If a weirdo echo flower was what it took to make her happy… Frisk eventually calmed herself down, and he said, “y’know what? forget i asked. it’s not important. anyway, i’d better go get started on that research stuff before i go see dante. see ya ‘round, kiddo!” With one last wave goodbye, he blinked away.

 

Flowey kept his face hidden for a minute, as though he was scared Sans would come back for some reason. Then, he started ranting.

 

“Oh. My. GOD!!! Could that trashbag BE any more annoying!? And YOU! You almost outed me! After everything I told you! I can’t beli- OW!”

 

The former prince’s tirade was stopped by a pinch to his cheek. “It’s mean to insult people, Flowey,” said Frisk, stretching his face just a little.

 

Flowey exclaimed as he wrenched his face away from the princess’ hand. “I don’t care! Dammit, Frisk, you _lied_ to Sans just now. When he finds out, he’s going to hate your guts.”

 

“I didn’t lie.” She elaborated upon seeing his confusion. “I believe my exact words were, ‘I heard him talking, one day, out of the blue!’ and ‘now that everyone can live on the surface, I thought the sun and fresh air would do him good’.

 

“You DID start talking to me one day, out of the blue. Yours was the first voice I ever heard when I fell into the Underground. I’d never met a talking flower before, so you were something I never would’ve expected. Hence ‘out of the blue.’

 

“As for you needing sun and fresh air, I honestly believe that. I don’t think you deserve to stay down here any longer and, you being a flower, some real sunlight should be good for you. So I didn’t lie, at all.” She innocently smiled at him, despite how deviously she just worded everything. Flowey couldn’t help but stare.

 

He shook his head a little, saying, “I still don’t get you, Frisk…”  

 

“I’m sure you’ll understand, someday, Flowey.” She put his vase back on the table, then laid back down on the bed to rest. As she put the cool cloth back over her eyes, Flowey couldn’t help but wonder. It was something they didn’t have a chance to talk about, because of that weird thing with her not being able to hear his best friend’s name properly and Sans barging in.

 

Why had Chara’s voice come out of Frisk’s throat, during the fight? They were mimicking her, but Flowey could tell it was them. They were always really good at impressions. They had taught _him_ how to do it, after all! Were they the one messing with Frisk’s head? WHY were they doing that?

 

And if Chara was somehow still alive… why hadn’t they said anything to him? Were they still mad at him for not killing those humans, back then? Were they using Frisk now, the way they had used him?

 

Flowey didn’t know. He didn’t even know how it could be possible. Humans couldn’t take other human souls. Besides, his and Chara’s combined soul had shattered, soon after his body had turned to dust. He felt it. So there was no soul for Frisk to take, even if she’d been inclined to do so (which Flowey highly doubted).

 

Just what was going on?

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

 **Author’s Note:** If you haven’t read Underfantasy, and you’re wondering when and how Sans learned about Frisk dying repeatedly, click on or copy/paste the link below and skip to **Chapter Thirteen: Here We Are**. It’s at the beginning.

 

If you’re wondering about how Sans monitors anomalies, that’s about midway through **Chapter Six: Quiet Water**. Or you could wait until the next chapter. It’s all the same to me. :p

 

[ https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12838892/1/Underfantasy ](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12838892/1/Underfantasy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal headcanon: When a human becomes accustomed to distancing themselves from others, and DO NOT raise their LV, their "inner defenses" will still rise. This will affect their base DEF, whether they know it or not. I sort of touched on this in Underfantasy (Chapter Four: Bonetrousle), but not really. =p Because I'm a lame-o writer pulling everything out of her... hat as she goes~


	9. Nothing New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longest day ever continues...

* * *

 

_ “Even though my Frisk’s journey through the Underground won’t be all that different from the game, I’d still like to fill in some of the gaps once the journey’s over. How do monsters deal with lawbreakers, for example? That’s what I want to think about.”  _ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 8: Nothing New**

 

“ see ya ‘round, kiddo! ” With a smile and a wave, Sans took a shortcut out of Frisk’s hospital room. After arriving at his destination of the Lab’s globe room, he let his smile fall with a deep sigh. He didn’t have a chance to ask everything he’d wanted to… but maybe that was for the best. Frisk had been through enough for the day, and besides…

 

_*_ _how in the hell do i even start a conversation like that,_ he asked himself. _*do i just go up to her and say, “heya, kiddo! so tell me, how many times have you died? just wondering.” or maybe “i wanted to apologize for letting asgore kill you, instead of being your friend and helping you out. sorry! but hey, at least you came back, so it’s all good, right?”_

 

Sans brought a hand up to his face and groaned into his metacarpus. So much for keeping his promise. Now that he knew Frisk was causing anomalies, this meant she had died at least twice, or maybe even three times (he wasn’t too sure about one of them) before making it to Hotland. She died three more times because of Mettaton and Asgore, then there were the uncountable anomalies that didn’t affect the world, after Asgore died…

 

It was strange, being able to remember different timelines. The hardest thing about it was that he was the only one to remember. Even though Alphys was aware of the anomalies, she couldn’t remember the way he could.

 

For example, a LOT of people had been watching Frisk and Mettaton fight, but there wasn’t one single hint of confusion over who had won on Undernet. The recordings of that fight, too, were just of Frisk surviving long enough to “win”. The previous timeline might as well not exist. Sans was the only one that remembered anything happening to her. He was the only one that remembered the look on her face as that bomb exploded in it, before she fell like she was boneless onto the stage’s floor. The image of her soul splitting in half before it shattered into tiny, fading pieces was burned into the backs of his eye sockets.

 

He was the  _ only one _ who remembered… but that was nothing new.

 

But… if Frisk really was at the center of the latest anomalies, did  _ she _ remember? One would think so… but she might not be entirely aware of what she was doing. All her deaths might just be a bunch of bad dreams, as far as she knew… 

 

_ * _ _ but i’m not gonna  _ know _ what’s happening ‘til i ask her,  _ Sans thought to himself.  _ * _ _ which brings me right back to the question of how to start that conversation. ugh…  _

 

After rubbing his closed eye sockets for a second, Sans shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the globe. The remnants of a minor ripple were still bouncing around, but it was nothing like one of Frisk’s… “comebacks,” for lack of a better term. This one was faint, and barely disturbing anything at all. He remembered that pulse of something that wasn’t quite magic, just before Frisk started fighting. Alphys had said “determination” was the power to change fate, and Frisk sure as hell changed Papyrus’ fate… 

 

What that it? Was determination causing the ripples? Was it DT that had wrecked Frisk’s body, and not magic? Or was her DT reacting to the magic in her body? Now that he knew about the amalgamates, he knew magic and DT didn’t really mix. But, since Frisk had plenty of physicality, was  _ that _ what high amounts of DT did to a human body, instead of melting? Then again, if that was the case, shouldn’t the magic in her bones have melted, instead of magicalcifying? 

 

None of the research ever mentioned humans having these problems. What they needed was information about magicians… but Frisk just told him that information might not be unavailable. 

 

Solving this puzzle was going to be a LOT of work. There were too many questions, and not enough answers. But that, too, was nothing new. 

 

He sighed again, then started walking to the record room. He had to get started on reviewing all the research he and Alphys had done on humans, way back when. Back when things sort of made sense. Back when they both had someone to guide them through these sorts of things, even as they helped  _ him _ to better everyone’s lives. 

 

But, that was no longer the case. It hadn’t been, in a very long time. One could argue that it had  _ never _ been the case. 

 

Those thoughts, as well, were nothing new to Sans. All he could do was trudge along, and hope they could at least get a hint on what had happened today. For Frisk’s sake, if nothing else.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

_ “This is Mettaton News, live with Mettaton. Good evening, beauties and gentlebeauties. There is breaking news from the castle as word of Princess Frisk’s condition is released.  _

 

_ “After becoming involved in an altercation between her bodyguard and an unnamed assailant, Her Highness and her guard have both fully recovered from their injuries. The guard has returned to duty, and the princess will go home with King Asgore within the hour.  _

 

_ “When asked for more information on the assailant, His Majesty declined to give details, stating that the matter was still under investigation. He did say, however, that they have been apprehended, and charges are pending against them. Until then, they have been placed in the maximum security section of the Prison.  _

 

_ “The names of the two monsters dusted by the assailant on the surface have not yet been released. Their families have been notified, but authorities are respecting their wishes and are giving them time to grieve before the names are made public.  _

 

_ “After the headcount King Asgore ordered, it was found that no other monsters were dusted during this incident. However, one rock monster living in the Ruins suffered a minor injury when a piece of their body was chipped off by the assailant. They were otherwise unharmed, jokingly stating to the press that they, and I quote,  ‘needed to lose some weight, anyhow.’ End quote. _

 

_ “There will now be two minutes of silence, in honor of the fallen.” _

 

The CV set was shut off, and the Earl of Sharpe sighed. Even in the temperate comfort of his home office, he could feel a chill running up and down his spine. 

 

* _When I said the firebug made things interesting, I wasn’t talking about_ this _kind of interesting!_ he thought to himself. He sighed again, sitting behind his desk and assuming his favorite thinking position; chair tilted back, balanced on its back legs and supported by his tail, arms and legs crossed as he started up at the ceiling.

 

It had been hours since the whole ordeal began, and it was nearly sunset. Dante knew his sister was the princess’ physician, but he didn’t call to ask how she was doing. Talia could be awful touchy when it came to doctor/patient confidentiality (as she should be.) Still, she wasn’t the only person he could get information from.

 

Pristina visited Papyrus while he was still being treated a nd got his side of the story while his memory of the event was still fresh. She even got Sans’, though she hadn’t managed to see the princess before Talia declared her off-limits (to let the poor girl rest, of course). One of the earl’s investigators would get statements from them all, soon enough, but being able to get information within an hour of an incident’s occurrence was an enormous boon… at least, under normal circumstances. 

 

Papyrus’ actions were in accordance with his duties as a royal guard, so he was fine. The princess forming that shield to protect herself and Papyrus was also fine, since self-defense was a no-brainer, legally speaking. The problems started when the princess picked that Fight with her uncle, trapping him in what amounted to a legally-recognized duel.

 

Being caged like an animal in an over-crowded hole, with barely any hope and no escape within sight didn’t really put a monster in a good mood. Sometimes, that desperation had to be vented, and a monster just HAD to release the aggression their normally compassionate soul was ill-equipped to handle. The “FIGHT” was what allowed that to happen in a relatively safe manner, with heavy emphasis on the word, “relatively.” 

 

The turn-taking, the field separating defender and aggressor, and the attack panel allowing the defender’s physical attacks to hit their normally out-of-reach opponent were how monsters kept things more-or-less fair. Things could still go wrong, and somebody could still end up dusted, but it was generally agreed that no legal action would be taken against such a victor. Not unless that same person dusted twice more. A “three strikes” rule, one could say. If they went that far, however, they would be apprehended, put to trial, and sentenced. 

 

If the convict wasn’t too far gone, they’d be sent to the Prison and would receive mandatory psychiatric counselling. At worst, they’d get a life sentence and would forever remain in a cell. And, if they somehow did even worse than that, they wound up on a once-in-a-lifetime date with The Duke, ending with a kiss goodnight.

 

So, even if the princess HAD killed her uncle, she would’ve been covered under the three-strikes rule. The humans on the surface might not see it that way, but the Fight had taken place within the Kingdom of Monsters, so the kingdom’s rules were what applied. In fact, Sans had toed the line by doing what he’d done outside of a Fight. 

 

If he’d been able to make a “citizen’s arrest,” it might not have been so bad, but the High Judge wasn’t allowed to do that. Having the power of judge and jury was bad enough without the executioner going around arresting whomever he pleased. Still, Sans hadn’t  _ quite _ broken the law, though it’d been a close thing. If Papyrus hadn’t been saved…

 

Dante shuddered. He and Sans were the same age, and they’d been friends since they were both four years-old. Sans and Papyrus were practically family. Dante could still remember the bittersweet day Papyrus was born… the same day the Gaster brothers lost their mother and Sans became the heir to his grandfather’s title. But that never stopped him from loving his brother (no matter how much the big softie tried to deny it.) If Papyrus had died, right in front of him, Sans just might have thrown the book out the window to exact justice on his brother’s murderer, right then and there.

 

Or not. Sans had quite a bit of self-control, more than many gave him credit for. It was hard to say what his friend would’ve done, but Dante didn’t doubt he would’ve exacted his revenge upon the human, eventually. Sans would’ve lost his job for it, of course, but he probably wouldn’t care very much about that if Papyrus was gone. The man was two, at most three, steps away from falling down as it was…

 

Dante made a mental note to thank the princess, later. She saved more than just Papyrus’ life; she saved Sans’, too, no matter how indirectly.

 

With another sigh, Dante righted his chair. There was work to do, if he was going to help out the firebug. It might not amount to much, but there was a precedent to set. The very first human vs. monster case in hundreds of years… 

 

This was bound to be interesting.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans and Alphys sat on the floor of the Lab’s records room, surrounded by (and practically buried neck-deep in) old research. As expected, it told them nothing new, and Sans felt like they’d both gone cross-eyed from poring over it all.  _ He _ had gone cross-eyed, anyway. Judging from the way Alphys kept rubbing her eyes behind her glasses, hers were on their way. Before Sans could suggest giving up Alphys’ phone chimed, startling them both. She exclaimed after checking it.

 

“Oh! Oh, thank god… Frisk is perfectly fine! She’s already at home, with Asgore.”

 

“ great! ” said Sans with a smile. “ now, all we need is something to tell the both of them. you know, the something we haven’t figured out, yet? ”

 

Alphys glared, just a little. “I  _ know _ . I was hoping something about all this would jog my memory, o-or we’d find something we skipped over in the past, but…”

 

Sans sighed heavily. “ yeah... i guess i was hopin’ for the same thing. too bad. ” He stared at the documents in his hand for a second, then let himself fall backward, onto a stack of more. It supported him as he made himself comfortable, trying to take a quick nap before talking to Dante. Alphys was used to this behavior, so she wasn’t surprised. In fact, she sympathized with her former junior colleague. It had been a long day, for everyone… But just when she thought he was asleep, he asked her a question.

 

“ what d’you think happened to frisk? ”

 

Alphys took her glasses off, cleaning them as she said, “W-well… it’s hard to say…”

 

She could almost hear him rolling his eyes as he said, “ just spit it out, al! i’m not gonna think you’re stupid. we worked together for too long for me to ever think that.  ”

 

Alphys startled a bit. Some of her self-doubts HAD begun to rear their ugly heads, again, making her question whether she was up to this task. 

 

It was almost scary, how perceptive Sans could be. He always had been, since the day they met when he first started working in the Lab as an apprentice. Alphys, herself, had been an assistant at the time. They only got to work together for a few years before the Core Incident ruined everything, yet he’d become a friend. 

 

After the Core Incident, though, he left alchemy to study law. After how he’d been injured and nearly died during the cave-in, Alphys couldn’t really blame him for wanting to leave alchemy altogether. He had his younger brother to consider, too. Alchemy research didn’t exactly have a nice, defined schedule where you could leave your experiments to see your family. 

 

In Alphys’ case, she’d taken a  _ very _ long sabbatical from alchemy after the Incident. She didn’t see very much of Sans during those decades, although they’d still run into each other, every now and then. But after she became the Royal Alchemist and the anomalies started happening, he came back. 

 

Sans just barged right into the Lab, one day, using the old codes for the front door which had never been changed, saying he wanted to look at the globe. She went down there with him, since it’d been a while since she last checked on it, and they found it rippling more than it ever had. That was when they started working together again, trying to figure out what was going on in their copious spare time. 

 

Alphys shook herself, bringing herself back to the present. She thought about his question.

 

“W-well… to be honest, I don’t even want to speculate about what happened, not without more data. The most we have is that c-ray image, but that doesn’t tell us exactly how much magic is flowing through her body. That requires a tissue sample. From a monster that would mean a clump of fur, a handful of shed scales, a cup of slime…”

 

Sans sat up, looking toward her as he asked, “ what about blood? ”

 

“I… don’t know.” Alphys started organizing documents, just to give her hands something to do. “We never worked with human tissue, after all. Asgore only let us borrow the souls he had… collected, at the time. The… the rest of them stayed in the castle’s basement.”

 

The judge rested his elbow on a stack of old books, resting his chin on his arm as he raised a brow ridge. “ remind me, again, why asgore didn’t bury those poor kids, sooner? ”

 

It was Alphys’ turn to sigh. She straightened her back, and Sans grinned as he recognized her going into lecture mode. “You just read the same research I did. It’s because a human’s soul does shatter, eventually, if the soul is too far away from the body and they don’t become a ghost. The coffins and canisters were magically connected, allowing the souls to persist as souls until the day we had all seven.”

 

“ didn’t they all disappear afterward? ” asked Sans. When she nodded he asked, “ where d’you think they went? ”

 

Alphys shrugged. “Who knows? They probably shattered, and who knows where  _ any _ soul goes when that happens? That’s not really an alchemical question.” 

 

“ yeah… you got a point, there. ” Sans watched Alphys organize for a second before saying, “ but to get back to my original question, blood just might work. ”

 

Alphys nodded uncertainly. “It might, but it might not, too. Almost all of our equipment is based around detecting and analyzing magical components of the body. If there’s too much physicality it’s not going to show up, like how it did with Frisk’s crystoray image.”

 

For once, Sans wasn’t giving up. “ maybe not, but we’ve gotta start somewhere, al. we need to figure out just how magic frisk is, not just why she became magic, all of a sudden.  _ and _ we need to figure out if it’s truly ‘all of a sudden.’ ” After thinking for a minute, Sans realized something. “ hey, if the equipment only detects magic, how’d you find out about determination? ”

 

“Because DT is something like magic. S-sort of, anyway. It operates upon much different principles than what your magic or mine does, so it’s almost unrecognizable. But it’s still a kind of magic.” 

 

Alphys’ movements slowed as the memories flooded back. “I think… I think that’s why my experiments failed. I was trying to force two disparate types of magic to meld. But since one needs high physicality to wield, I wound up hurting all those people… God, I was so  _ stupid _ … I just kept injecting and injecting DT, without even speculating about the possible consequences! I should’ve been more patient. I should’ve stopped while I was ahead. But no, I had to be the  _ STUPID _ piece of garbage I am and-!”

 

Sans interrupted Alphys’ tirade against herself, speaking more firmly than he usually did. “you are not garbage, alphys, and you aren’t stupid. you were just desperate, like a lot of people were, by then. i know, because i’m a member of the king’s council, no matter now many of the meetings i try to avoid. everyone was feeling it, back then, and it was showing in the number of people falling down and how crime was on the upswing. i knew how hard you were working to get us out, at least ‘til you stopped giving us updates.” 

 

He sighed. “i ’m sorry… i shoulda checked on ya, sooner. i shoulda dropped by for more than just the anomalies. i just figured that, if it was important, you’d tell the king, and the rest of us. ‘til then, everything was on a need-to-know basis, and i didn’t feel the need to know. ” 

 

Sans looked abashed. “ i didn’t even go down to the lowest levels of the lab. i was just tryin’ to stay outta your scales, but maybe if i had… ”

 

Alphys was stunned. “Sans, you have nothing to apologize for! I’m the one that made all those decisions. Of course I have to live with the consequences.” She looked away from him, a soft smile tugging on her mouth as she said, “You know, at first I thought it was weird, how a kid like Frisk could be so understanding. But then I learned she knew a thing or two about consequences, herself…”

 

Clawed hands clenched around old paper, almost tearing it. “That poor girl has already been through so much. I don’t want to treat her like another experiment, Sans. She deserves better than that, especially from someone she calls a f-friend. I-I… I c-can’t-!” Alphys shut her eyes tight, fighting the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes. 

 

Seeing all that magic in the princess’ bones, knowing what high amounts of DT did to magic bodies… She didn’t want that for Frisk, not in a million years! Alphys would melt herself with DT before she  _ ever _ let it happen to Frisk!!

 

Sans moved from his spot, kneeling next to Alphys and placing a hand on her shoulder. “ nobody’s askin’ you to conduct experiments on frisk, ” he said gently. “ we’re just helpin’ talia figure out what’s goin’ on inside the kid. some samples to test, maybe a couple more c-rays to see what make her body and soul tick, that’s all we’d need. ”

 

The skeleton had a thought. “hey, if your equipment still works, this might be a good chance to see if magic and DT can exist in a body, at the same time! but we wouldn’t be experimenting on frisk, herself. just on the samples we’d be taking from her with her permission. and her parents’, i guess. 

 

“this won’t be like last time, al. this time, you’ll have me and talia to help you out. we’ll keep you on track… but  _ you _ need to keep us in the loop. no more hiding, even if it seems like we’re failing. OK? ”

 

At first, it didn’t seem like Alphys heard him. But she eventually took a deep breath, her death grip on the paper easing, before turning her face toward Sans to nod. It was a small one, and it wasn’t exactly brimming confidence, but it was better than nothing. The skeleton gave her an encouraging smile.

 

“ chin up, al, there’s a mystery afoot! ” Sans struggled not to laugh at Alphys’ expression as he continued. “ of course, that doesn’t mean we need to get  **carpal tunnel** -vision. there’s no need  **toe** become obsessed with our research. we’re not the types to  **el-bow** to pressure from others to produce results. we’ve got too much  **backbone** ! we-! ”

 

“Oh my god, would you just STOP already?!” Even as she exclaimed, and waved the papers in her hand at him, Alphys was laughing.

 

Her friend, too, was laughing as he dodged her. “ you’re smiling! i’m countin’ it! ”

 

“I don’t care! Just… go see Lord Sharpe, already.” Even as Sans bid Alphys goodbye and left, she couldn’t help but marvel at how some things never changed. It was nice to share a laugh with Sans, again…

 

It wasn’t until later that she realized the sneaky devil left her to clean up the record room, all on her own.

* * *

 


	10. It's Raining Somewhere Else

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein two friends learn a little bit more about one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Soriel moment ahead. Sort of.

* * *

 

_ As much as Manuela loved her departed friend, Francine didn’t really put much thought into building Sans’ relationship with Toriel. Manuela had one idea, but the trick was to not go too fast… _

 

**Chapter 9: It’s Raining Somewhere Else**

 

Days passed in peace, following the terrible events that took place after the princess’ adoption announcement. As she tidied up the tent she shared with Frisk, Toriel could not help but wonder what her child was up to, today. Frisk gave her updates via c-phone calls at the end of each day, and Toriel waited with as much patience as she could muster each time.

 

Frisk’s first night beneath Asgore’s roof had been uneventful, thankfully. Everything that took place earlier that day was quite enough, thank you! Still, it warmed Toriel’s heart to know her daughter felt safe enough to sleep soundly in the castle.

 

The following day consisted of Frisk and Asgore getting to know one another, mainly through chatting over tea and Asgore’s favored hobby of gardening. He had been kind enough to transfer Frisk’s golden echo flower to a smaller, lighter flowerpot. The vase Papyrus borrowed from the Ruins was returned to the house in Home. Toriel planned to bring it to the surface, eventually, but not until there was a proper house to put it in.

 

The day after that was the beginning of Frisk’s education as a princess. She learned more about how monsters lived in the Underground by touring one of the farms run by Pillar Enterprises, Baron Ampersand’s company, where alchemically modified vegetables were grown in magic water without soil or sunlight. She also saw the mushrooms unique to the Underground that served as raw materials for alchemical conversion into things such as flour, because wheat could not be grown. “Meat” like hamburger could also be made. Alchemy had always been such a wondrous thing… 

 

Yesterday, Frisk visited the corporate offices of Pillar Enterprises and gave them information on how humans grew food on the surface. She also learned more about the Core by touring its vastness, guided by a member of the Phantom family. She had been fascinated by it, but expressed confusion once the tour was over. 

 

When she asked who created and designed the Core, nobody seemed to know. As important as it was to people’s lives, no one could tell her who designed it. She wanted to ask more questions… but refrained. She doubted she would get any other answer, no matter how many times she asked. 

 

It reminded Toriel of the day Frisk fell into the Underground, when she gave the child her first c-phone. She asked who had invented it… and Toriel could not provide an answer. She thought about it for a while afterward, but was unable to remember. It was strange, but that gap in her memory was not all that alarming. It had been a  _ very _ long time since they first came into being. That much, Toriel could remember. They were invented just after Chara fell into the Underground, long before similar devices started washing up in Waterfall. They had not been quite as ubiquitous, back then, but there were a few available when… things went wrong. 

 

Before her mind could stray back down that lane of memories, Toriel gave herself a shake and refocused upon the present. Now that the tent was tidy, she intended to go looking for a new bug-hunting spot on the surface. She could do that, because this was the first day since the barrier fell that she had no prior engagements. There were no classes to conduct on forest safety or edible plants, nor was there anyone to treat for an upset stomach caused by eating improper things, or simply eating too much. It was also a nice day out, at least for the moment. However, there were clouds banking in the distance, looking as though they may bring the first true rain to fall upon monster heads in centuries.

 

There was no point in dallying if she was to look for that hunting spot. After gathering the necessary supplies, plus an umbrella, Toriel and her guard set out for the woods. 

 

She made her way down the path that someone had carved out of the woods, a few days ago. Jagged-looking stumps were all that remained of trees felled for building material. It was as though someone used their bullets to tear chunks out of the base of the tree, then pushed them over… It did not seem like a terribly efficient use one’s magic, but there was no arguing its effectiveness. 

 

Eventually they came across a clearing, with the biggest tree Toriel had  _ ever _ seen growing in the center of it. It was probably the ancestor of all the smaller trees in the area, because it was absolutely  _ ancient! _ Although some of the outer bark had been stripped away in one particular spot, the layers beneath didn’t look like they had been harmed. Regardless, Toriel hoped it would be alright.

 

It was such a spectacular sight she could not help but walk around it, staring up at the branches that practically covered the sky. She almost didn’t notice someone laying on their back amongst the massive roots. In fact, she had been so entranced by the tree that they were only brought to her attention when her guard suddenly stood between her and them. But once she saw it was just a skeleton monster, she relaxed. In fact, it was someone Toriel recognized.

 

“I know that man. Would you please give me and my friend some privacy?” asked Toriel of her guard.

 

The woman, a cat monster named Tabbytha, was reluctant at first. All of the guards assigned to Miss Toriel and Princess Frisk had been a bit on-edge since Her Highness’ uncle… introduced himself so rudely. But Tabbytha eventually said, “Very well, ma’am. I’ll be scouting the perimeter of the clearing. Please call me if you need me.” After saluting, she left Toriel’s side to let her talk to Sans.

 

Assuming, of course, that she was able to wake him. Or if she had the heart to wake him. He had to be working hard to figure out the mystery of Frisk’s magic, and trying to solve the potentially sticky legal situation that was brewing. She did not begrudge him wanting to take a nap outside, on a nice day.

 

Toriel approached quietly. Sans had made himself comfortable, finding a hollow in the tree roots that cradled him perfectly. His hood was covering his eye sockets, his arms pillowed his head and he had his legs crossed at the ankles. He was the picture of relaxation, making Toriel reluctant to wake him. However, as she looked on, she noticed a snail making its way toward where his nose would be, if he had one.

 

She almost picked it off for him, but she was too late. The snail made it to the nasal opening and covered it. Sans awoke with a snort, one hand going to his face and pulling away the snail. He didn’t sit up, but he pulled his hood away from his eyes, allowing him to blink blearily at the intruder of his slumber. His expression of mingled confusion and annoyance made her laugh. He looked up from the snail, a little surprised.

 

“ oh, heya tori, ” said Sans. He covered his teeth with his free hand as he let out a mighty yawn, asking “ wha’ ‘rings you ‘ere? ” as it ended. 

 

Toriel sat upon a nearby root, making herself comfortable as she said, “I was merely taking a nice walk in the woods, looking for a new bug-hunting spot. It would seem you have already found one. Or perhaps I should say it found you?” She extended a hand toward him, silently offering to take the snail. 

 

He sat up and gave it to her, wiping slime off his hand and face as he said, “ heh, guess you could say that. talk about rude awakenings. ” 

 

Toriel put the snail in the small cage she had brought with her. With a smile, she said, “Well, at least having this little one crawling upon your face is better than being  **slug** ged.” 

 

Her pun made him chuckle, a bit. “ i’d call that  **mollusk** -tation, but that’s not the best thing to pun about. ” 

 

Toriel shook her head slightly. It had been a clever pun, but that wasn’t something to jest about. In order to change the subject, she said, “May I ask how things are going with your research?” 

 

Sans shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck and working the kinks out of it. “ welp, it’s goin’. talia took a blood sample that me and al can test for magic density. She also took a new c-ray scan of frisk, but i haven’t seen it. ” He blushed, just a little. “ i’m, uh, leavin’ that sorta thing to her and alphys, from now on. 

 

“anyway, al said that frisk’s magic is evening itself out, gettin’ stronger where it was weak and thinning where it was too thick. we dunno why, but it’s somethin’. she’s also been workin’ to get her old lab equipment up and runnin’, so we can look at how frisk’s magic is reactin’ to her determination. talia’s gonna be talkin’ to you and asgore about that, so i guess this is your heads-up. that’s… pretty much it. ” He ended with a shrug. “ wish there was more to tell ya, but we’re doin’ our best. ”

 

“I know, Sans. Thank you, for everything you have already accomplished. Please thank Dr. Alphys for me, as well.” She meant it, as well. Despite her misgivings, Toriel had to admit that Alphys was proving herself to be invaluable in the effort to understand what happened to Frisk. She was supporting Dr. Flat in every way she could, even helping her perform the eye exams and neural tests to ensure no permanent damage had been done. 

 

And, though Toriel would keep the thought to herself, having Sans and Dr. Flat looking over Alphys’ shoulder may very well prevent the sorts of mistakes that led to the amalgamations. That, and Alphys’ own friendship with Frisk, should keep her in check. Hopefully.

 

As Sans settled himself back amongst the tree roots, Toriel thought of another topic. “You never told me you are the current Duke of Asterisk. Why not, Sans?”

 

Sans became somewhat embarrassed. “ i… don’t tell people ‘cause i really don’t like being treated special, just ‘cause i’ve got a fancy-pants title tacked onto my name. it doesn’t really fit and, honestly, it kinda chafes. i dunno how granddad put up with it for so long. ”

 

Toriel nodded. “I was surprised to learn Rockwell lived as long as he did. It is a shame he did not make it to see the barrier broken.”

 

“ yeah… ” Silence fell between the two friends as memories filled their minds. 

 

Toriel remembered the somber boy that lost nearly everyone he loved in the war. That boy grew into the man who would take on the thankless position of High Judge, and bravely shouldered all the resentment that came with that power. Heavy was the head that wore the executioner’s hood, but Rockwell bore it with grace and dignity. When she learned her old friend passed away a mere ten years ago, she mourned him.

 

Sans remembered the man that raised him and his brother after they were left without parents. A good man, though not always the most humorous guy to be around. In fact, he could be quite an old-fashioned stick-in-the-mud… but making them all laugh had been Grandma’s job, anyway. 

 

As Sans smiled at memories of his grandparents, Toriel saddened as a thought occurred to her. Rockwell was almost certainly the one to judge the all humans that fell in after Chara, but before Frisk. It was a tradition going back to the days when monsters still lived on the surface. Any human that sought an audience with the monster king would have their LOVE measured and weighed. If it was too high, they were turned away… but if they refused to leave they were almost certainly an assassin, and therefore to be “dealt with”. She almost didn’t want to ask, but…

 

“Sans? Did your grandfather ever speak with you about the other human children?” 

 

Both fell silent as Sans continued to lounge in the roots, his smile fading as he watched the leaves above swaying in the breeze and the clouds growing thicker. Toriel could almost see him juggling words in his mind, carefully weighing how best to weave them together into something that was not a lie, yet bore only the barest resemblance to the truth. 

 

Her hands tightened in her lap. “Sans, please… tell me.”

 

He looked at her, unwontedly serious. “ you shouldn’t ask questions when you know you’re not going to like the answer, tori, ” he said.

 

“I know…”

 

“ and i hope you realize i don’t want to say anything that may, or may not, paint my grandfather in a bad light? ”

 

“I know! I just…” Toriel wrung her hands together. “If he shared the information with you, I would like to know what Rockwell saw within them. Did he see something I did not? Were there things they were hiding from me? Or perhaps there were things I refused to see within them…”

 

“ you mean like frisk. ”

 

The former queen closed her eyes and nodded as she softly said, “Yes, like Frisk. 

 

“When Asgore and I visited her in the hospital she became extremely upset, and it took both of our souls to console her. She felt so small, and alone… and yet, she was terrified of letting us in to comfort her. That, combined with how she made her escape, and what she did in the Ruins… I cannot help but think ‘what else have I missed?’ Could I have alleviated this inner pain of hers, before this all happened?” But then, she had not bothered to try, when it was just the two of them.

 

In those precious early days, she did not wish to scare Frisk into running away. She hoped that the child would open up to her, if given enough time. But all she had done was drive Frisk away by overreacting to her reasonable questions, and even going as far as to Fight her. That Frisk would return to her once the barrier was broken spoke well of the child’s depth of compassion and forgiveness… and said terrible things of her uncle.

 

If such a kind child could forgive a monster that threw fire in her face, but not her uncle, would anyone ever do so?

 

Toriel was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of a heavy sigh. She refocused her attention upon Sans as he sat up, once again rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“ yeah, he did talk to me about ‘em, ” said the judge. “ he told me a lot, but he never mentioned seeing anything like what i saw in frisk. they probably couldn’t have done what she did, that day. i’m not even sure FRISK could’ve done it, if she’d been in a normal frame of mind. ” To himself, he added, * _ not with a smile like  _ that . 

 

Sans never figured out where all that intent went. It was like Frisk boxed it up and shoved it someplace nobody could see it. Not a judge with special training, or not even Frisk herself. But…

 

“ he never thought they were bad kids, even when it turned out a couple of them dusted a few people. i don’t think frisk is a bad kid, either. but we can’t overlook the way she went after her uncle. we can’t just write it off as a moment of stress gone awry. there’s something going on inside her, and it’s got the potential to be serious, no matter how much we care about her… or how much she cares about us. ” 

 

Toriel listened to her friend in silence, and was wringing her hands again. “I wish I could argue with that, but I cannot,” she said. She made herself stop and took a deep breath. She straightened her shoulders as she exhaled, and Sans watched in fascination as the worried mother became The Queen. 

 

Though she didn’t call herself that, anymore, no monster living in the Underground had known any other. Even monsters like him, born well after her departure, grew up with stories of her wisdom, intelligence and kindness. Not only that, but how she fought by Asgore’s side, leading their army against monsterkind’s enemies. And, of course, their legendary lovey-dovey antics before their marriage tanked.

 

Sans used to wonder what kind of woman she was. Now, he was getting a good idea. Plus, all those stories Granddad told about the sense of humor she tried to hide from the public turned out to be true. But, at the moment, all humor was absent from her expression as Toriel looked him in the orbits. 

 

“While you are correct to say we cannot ignore Frisk’s aggressive actions,” she said, “we must also remember that she chose Mercy, in the end. Whatever her flaws, whatever darkness dwells within her, she still chose to show that man Mercy. We must support her, and guide her so she may continue to do the right thing.”

 

Sans grinned as he said, “ of course we will! ” Toriel’s shoulders twitched, and his grin grew wider as she was surprised by how readily he agreed with her. “ what? you’re not the only one that wants to help the kid, y’know. ”

 

“I know I am not! I… Sometimes, I wonder.” 

 

She paused, and as the silence stretched on Sans raised a brow ridge at her. “ you wonder what, tori? ” Toriel was reluctant to say it, but she finally told him something that had been weighing on her mind, in addition to everything else. 

 

“Sometimes I wonder… if the only reason you are so eager to help Frisk is because of the promise I asked of you. Rockwell took promises very seriously, and never made them lightly. I do not doubt he taught you to do the same. I… I suppose I worry the only reason you go to such lengths to look after her is because I all but forced you to do so.” 

 

Sans was visibly confused. “ you didn’t force me into anything… ” Before he could continue a peculiar sound filled the air. He and Toriel looked around, noticing how everything had darkened, slightly. The overcast sky brought the promised moisture, and rain began to fall upon them. Toriel reached for her umbrella and Sans stood, staring up at the sky. By the time it was in her hands, he was already standing out in the rain, letting it fall onto his face.

 

Toriel moved to stand beside him. She said nothing, letting him enjoy the rain. After a moment she looked up to the sky, herself, breathing in the scent that was once only a memory haunting her dreams. It was the scent unique to rain and green, growing things warmed by the sun only a short while ago. It was familiar… and yet, because it had been so long, it felt brand-new. 

 

Sans held up a hand, watching in fascination as raindrops fell through. “ it’s… different from the rain in waterfall. not so grainy, ” he said. With a chuckle, he added, “ then again, i know that stuff’s not really ‘rain’, no matter what we called it. it’s just condensation collectin’ on stalactites high above that section of the cavern, then fallin’. ” 

 

He tapped his temple. “ up  _ here _ , i know that, but… ” He pressed a hand to his sternum, over his soul. “ …down in  _ here _ , it feels like it should be the same. but even though it’s a little confusing, it’s just proof we’re on the surface. ”

 

He sighed. “ okay, so maybe i helped the kid through the forest because of the promise, at first. but then she played along with papyrus, and didn’t hurt any of the monsters that kept pickin’ fights. she worked her way through everything by just bein’ herself, and tried her damnedest to hide how scared she was the entire time.

 

“ by the time she made it to the last corridor, it was less about the promise and more about lookin’ out for a good kid that needed lookin’ after, even if she did have issues. a good kid that made it possible for  _ everyone _ to have this rain fall on their face, no matter how confusing it is. ” 

 

He turned to face Toriel fully. “i can’t say i did the best job of keepin’ our promise. in fact, it was probably a mistake to let her face asgore. but… i wanted to believe in her. if there was _anyone_ who could find a way to bring that barrier down without anyone else dyin’, it was frisk. ” 

 

He meant that, too. For the first time in his life, there’d been someone (besides Papyrus or Pristina) that he could truly believe in. He’d found a glimmer of hope in those sunset-colored eyes. And even though it took a lot of comebacks, she did it in the end, didn’t she? As guilty as he felt about letting it happen, she actually pulled it off. Frisk’s determination was truly something to behold. And… 

 

Sans smiled. “ besides, it’s hard to NOT wanna look out for someone that makes such great puns. talent like that needs to be nurtured! ”

 

Toriel smiled back, her heart warmed by her friend’s words. She opened the umbrella, sharing it with Sans as she said, “So, is it safe for me to assume Frisk… got under your skin?” 

 

He winked, saying, “ only if i can assume she got  _ your _ goat. ”

 

The two of them shared a laugh, but Toriel soon sobered, saying, “I do not believe I have thanked you, for making that promise. I deeply appreciate it. I did not realize how much I was asking of you. You made that promise despite your oaths of loyalty to Asgore. You could have been severely punished!” 

 

Sans shrugged. “ maybe not as much as you think. asgore  _ was _ kinda hoping humans would stop fallin’ into the underground, after all. he might’ve appreciated anything that delayed the final encounter. i coulda been let off easy. i mean, what was he gonna do? take away my land? HEH! the humans kinda beat him to it, and they can keep it. ” 

 

He became wistful. “ maybe me and papyrus will go see the duchy, one day, just to see the place our granddad was born… but otherwise? i’m not too interested in it. ”

 

Toriel gave him a playful smile. “You simply do not want the additional responsibility, you lazybones.”

 

Sans pressed the back of his hand to his foreskull, feigning woe in a deadpan tone. “ oh no. you’ve discovered my terrible secret. whatever shall i do? ” His antics made Toriel chuckle.

 

“Well, now that it has begun to rain, perhaps we should return to camp and dry ourselves? Then we can chat more over some nice, warm tea.” 

 

“ sounds good to me. lead the way. ”

 

The two of them and Tabbytha returned to camp. Toriel and Sans traded puns and listened to the rain along the way, standing shoulder-to-elbow beneath the umbrella (they couldn’t stand shoulder-to-shoulder because she was such a tall lady). Still, it was as though they walked in their own private bubble, filled with the warmth of their shared laughter. 

 

Despite the rain, to them it felt like a bright and  **punny** day.

* * *

 


	11. Memory Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning:** Morbid memories, soul-related theories, and feelz ahead.

* * *

 

_ “How do our experiences shape us? How do memories affect our souls? And, in the context of our story, could they affect someone’s magic?”  _ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 10: Memory Lane**

 

Frisk sat between her parents in Dr. Flat’s office, waiting for her after having another “c-ray” taken. She still didn’t know what they were all for, but the doctor said she wanted to talk about all three pictures. 

 

Once the appointment was over, Frisk would return to the surface with Toriel. She was almost sorry to go, but she always knew she’d be returning. In the meantime, she touched up the sketches she made throughout the week while Toriel semi-politely ignored Asgore, who hummed to himself as he admired a painting on the wall. 

 

All the Dreemurrs turned to face Dr. Flat as she came in, carrying a device Frisk learned was called a “tablet”, which worked like the modern c-phones manipulated by touching a completely smooth surface. 

 

What Frisk  _ really _ wanted to do was sit down with Alphys for a few hours and learn how all this technology worked. But that would have to wait. 

 

The doctor smiled at them all. “Good morning, everyone! Especially you, Your Highness. I believe you’re in for a treat, today.”

 

“What manner of treat, Doctor?” asked Toriel.

 

Dr. Flat stood beside the screen on her wall as she answered. “It occurred to me that Her Highness hasn’t seen her own c-ray images, yet. I would like to correct that oversight today, as well as discuss our findings.”

 

Frisk put her journal away as her parents stood, and the three Dreemurrs joined Dr. Flat by the wall. After she swiped and tapped at her tablet, something appeared on the larger screen. It was three pictures of a skeleton, each with subtle differences between them. Frisk was mildly confused.

 

“Are these the… ‘c-ray’ images taken of me?” Dr. Flat nodded, a smile pulling on the corners of her scaly lips. Frisk’s brow furrowed, slightly. “I don’t understand, Doctor. What makes this so different from an x-ray?” Though it had yet to be reinvented, she learned from books how those machines used radiation to peer through flesh, allowing one to see the bones and most soft-tissue abnormalities beneath. This didn’t seem much different, and her doubt showed in her expression.

 

But Dr. Flat was unfazed. “Because, Your Highness, c-rays are used to monitor  _ magic _ inside one’s body.” She smiled as comprehension dawned upon Frisk. “That’s right, Princess. What happened last week was no fluke. You  _ are _ magic.” After another tap, the left-most image enlarged while the other two disappeared.

 

“This is the image we took last week, after you were admitted to the hospital,” said Dr. Flat. She told the princess everything she told Asgore and Toriel about her findings that day, including Sans’ theory. 

 

In one corner of her mind, Frisk wondered if bare bones would be obscene in a skeleton monster’s eyes. Even though all the pictures had been taken while she was fully clothed, she was uncomfortable at the thought of Sans seeing her effectively naked. It was… embarrassing. But Dr. Flat continued, not giving her time to dwell on it. 

 

“This second picture,” she said to them, “was taken just a few days ago. As you can see, there’s been a marked improvement in the magic density. While it’s still not quite where we would want it, if you were a monster, such rapid improvement is remarkable. And now, for the latest scan…” 

 

After a swipe, the newest picture dominated the screen. “The improvement has slowed, a bit, but your skeleton is still becoming more and more magical. Especially your lower half, which wasn’t very magic-dense to begin with. Except, of course, for that one spot in your foot. That’s been baffling us for a while, now.”

 

Without thinking about it, Frisk said, “I think I know where that came from.” As the adults looked at her in amazement, she realized her mother might not like any further explanation, and Undyne might get in trouble.

 

Asgore smiled encouragingly. “Please, Pumpkin, if you can shed any light on this mystery, feel free to share it with us.” As Toriel and Dr. Flat nodded, Frisk sighed. She hoped her mother didn’t get too mad…

 

“That magic probably came from my fight with Undyne,” said Frisk. “Whenever she turned my soul green, she did so by stabbing me in that foot with a special spear. It didn’t hurt, but it immobilized me and made it impossible to run.”

 

Toriel was aghast. “ _ What?!  _ How in the world were you supposed to fight in that condition??”

 

Frisk backed away from the screen, into the middle of the office so she could demonstrate. “When she did that, she would give me one of her spears. I used it to defend myself against her bullets.” Frisk assumed the stance Undyne had shown her, though her hands were closed around nothing. Still, just pretending was bringing those memories to the forefront of her mind, out of the shadows she shoved them into. 

 

It had been her determination against Undyne’s. A warrior’s hopes for a future under the sun against a human’s, who just wanted to live long enough to  _ have _ a future. She remembered all those bullets flying through the air, all that magic making the very air sizzle, and the tingle of the spear in her hands as she blocked what she could…

 

Frisk’s hands were tingling, now. No… it wasn’t just her hands. Her chest began to feel peculiar, as well. It was almost like when she was fighting her uncle, but not quite so hot. Intrigued, Frisk let herself remember more. 

 

Those bullets had stung, but they held all of Undyne’s hopes. They’d held  _ everyone’s _ dreams of being free. Undyne’s love for her people burned like the flames from her stove. Her bullets expressed her fierce, direct spirit. Though Frisk had been on the receiving end of a butt-kicking, she still grew to respect Undyne’s dogged tenacity. 

 

Frisk let herself remember… and a white spear suddenly appeared in her hands. The abruptness of it stunned the adults for a second, before they exclaimed at the same time.

 

“My child-!”

 

“Princess, are you hurt!?”

 

“Goodness gracious!”

 

Frisk just stared at the spear in her hands. She hefted it, feeling a fraction of the weight a human-made spear would have. And it didn’t feel like holding the borrowed spear, not really. It felt more like the little pencils she summoned, before. 

 

Suddenly, she knew why it felt different. It was because this was  _ her _ spear. This was  _ her _ magic, in her hands. This had to be an expression of the memories and feelings now indelibly inscribed upon her soul. Frisk was all at once excited, intrigued and, if she was to be honest with herself, a little frightened. Just thinking of how much potential power she had at her fingertips was dizzying. 

 

Frisk held her spear for a moment, but she didn’t flip it around because the office was too cramped for such things. Then she let the memories recede, the magic dissolving. She shook herself, realizing she hadn’t said a word the entire time. She gave her parents and the doctor a smile. 

 

“I’m fine,” said Frisk. “It didn’t hurt this time.” Dr. Flat still gave her a quick examination, gently poking and prodding at various spots on her hands. She looked into Frisk’s eyes with a tiny light, ensuring there was no inflammation, but they were fine.

 

Dr. Flat was amazed, her eyes wide. Then, she became puzzled. “How are you fine? What made this time so different? And how in the world are you doing all this without any training?”

 

Frisk could only shrug as her parents looked at one another, then at her. 

 

Toriel tried to smile. “Well, as long as you are unhurt, my child, then I suppose that is good enough for me.”

 

Asgore nodded with a smile. “Agreed. And just think! Now we can include magic training in your curriculum!”

 

Toriel was dubious. “I am not certain permitting her to practice magic is wise…”

 

For once, Asgore stood up to her. “And  _ I _ am not certain keeping her in ignorance is any wiser. You just saw what happened. We must teach Frisk how to control her new power, so she does not injure someone in another moment of fear.”

 

Toriel’s expression was strained, but her tone was civil. “But her magic injured her. How do we know training will not hurt her further?” 

 

Asgore remained firm. “She was not hurt this time. Clearly, something is different about this instance. Whatever made it so must be nurtured. One thing we cannot do is force Frisk to bottle up her soul, again.” Softly, he added, “You already felt what that did to her. I do not wish to contribute to that pain.”

 

Toriel struggled to keep her bottom lip from quivering, remembering how small and scared Frisk’s soul felt that day. “And I do not wish any  _ new _ pain upon her,” she said, equally softly. “She has been hurt enough. My child will no longer suffer.”

 

As Asgore tried to come up with a better counterargument, Dr. Flat cleared her throat, making him and Toriel jump. They turned almost guiltily toward her, having forgotten where they were, and saw Frisk standing beside her. The child’s expression and body language were neutral and unreadable. Did their disagreement upset her? They didn’t have a chance to ask.

 

Dr. Flat said, “Perhaps we should ask Her Highness what she would like to do? It’s her body and soul we’re talking about, after all.” She turned to Frisk. “Princess?” 

 

Frisk thought about it, for a moment, then opened her eyes and looked into Dr. Flat’s. “Did you ever find out why I was hurt so badly, when I fought my uncle?”

 

The doctor raised a hand and waved it in a teeter-totter motion, saying, “Yes, and no.” She invited the Dreemurrs to sit back down, because this explanation was going to take a while. She took her seat behind the desk before continuing.

 

“I say ‘yes’, because the blood sample we drew at the time of the second c-ray let us figure out how magic-dense you actually were at the time, which was about seventy-five of what is ‘normal’ for a skeleton your age. But I also say ‘no’, because we still don’t understand exactly how it interacted with your determination and physicality to cause the damage we saw. 

 

“Alphys has a theory. She suspects an imbalance between your ‘DT’ and magic is what happened. For whatever reason, your magic somehow overpowered your DT, making your bones magicalcify. Then, there’s her other theory…

 

“Her second theory involves her belief that determination is a different order of magic from a monster’s. She postulates that we aren’t seeing magic gathering in the c-rays, but DT. However, because we’ve never taken c-rays of humans before, we can’t be sure. But with your explanation of how you magicalcified in that one spot on your foot, I now have a theory of my own. 

 

“Your magic density may be climbing because you’ve been eating so much alchemically made food. Your bones, and possibly your SOUL, are absorbing the magic in them like sponges, faster than normal. Now, you’ve gained enough strength to perform magic, despite your physicality. 

 

“And, not only can you absorb food, but you can absorb the magic in bullets, as well. It’s entirely possible your skeleton has been becoming more and more magical since you came the Underground. But…”

 

Dr. Flat sighed. “Even so, it should have taken longer. Off the top of my head, the amount of magic found in our food, even eaten three times a day, every single day, isn’t enough to restore a skeleton’s magic after two and a half weeks. If your lower half was all-but-magicless after a week and a half, I must assume the rest of you was the same way when you arrived, with the possible exception of your ribcage. So this must mean you’ve absorbed a great number of bullets… many times over the lethal amount for someone with your HP.”

 

Frisk said nothing. What  _ could _ she say?  _ “Yes, I’ve already died several times, and my supposedly dead brother (who is currently a soulless flower) is to blame for most of them” _ ? Hardly. 

 

But before she had to say anything, Asgore asked, “What of the barrier? Could its magic have affected Frisk, somehow?” He looked down at one of his hands, his palm upturned as though cupping something. “I could feel its power, whenever I stood before it. If Frisk once possessed magic in the past, could falling through the barrier have done something? Could it have acted as some manner of booster shot and restarted her magic production?”

 

Dr. Flat’s spiked brows rose. “I didn’t even consider that! But I should have. The power of seven human magicians…” She rubbed her lower jaw with a knuckle, deep in thought. “It would have less than a second to zap her… so perhaps not as much power as we’d think would’ve been absorbed. But that might be enough.” She stopped rubbing her jaw, looking at Frisk. “Your Highness, did you feel anything peculiar as you were falling?”

 

Frisk pondered, then shook her head. “I wasn’t paying much attention to my fall, I’m afraid. I… had other things on my mind, at that moment.” Which was probably the biggest understatement she’d ever made. 

 

Her arm had been throbbing from the fracture she sustained after being thrown from her stolen horse. She’d been looking Death in the face and was trying to accept the end. And, morbid as it was to consider, she had enough time during the fall to orient herself so she “landed” in a manner that made it quick.

 

She still didn’t know how a bed of little flowers saved her, leaving her with nothing more than a bump on the head. Sometimes, she wondered if she wasn’t still back there, dreaming as she slowly faded from the world… 

 

Big, warm hands touched both of Frisk’s shoulders, jarring her out of her thoughts. Her parents were giving her sad, worried looks, especially Toriel. Her mother cupped her cheek as her father took her right hand into his left. Frisk closed her eyes and concentrated on the warmth of her parents, letting it remind her that she was alive. If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel something warm in her chest, though it wasn’t the same as her parent’s hands. 

 

If she could feel this warmth forever, whether she was alive or dead almost didn’t matter. She just didn’t want it to go away, or do anything that would drive them away. Going through that with her human parents had been bad enough. 

 

Frisk opened her eyes, looking into Toriel’s. “Mother… if you don’t want me to learn magic, I won’t learn any. I don’t want to do anything that will be bad. I don’t want to be bad…”

 

Toriel gaped at Frisk, before shaking her head. “No, no, no! That is not why I am concerned. You being magic is not ‘bad’. I simply do not wish for you to suffer another injury.” She moved her hand back to Frisk’s shoulder. “My child… would you like to learn how to use magic?”

 

Frisk slowly nodded. “I do. I don’t want to hurt somebody by accident. I don’t want it to simply happen, the way it did just now. I  _ need _ to learn how to control this… but I don’t want to upset you, either.” She tried not to remember how her human mother punished her whenever the irrational woman got upset, but it was hard. Even telling herself that Toriel was nothing like her didn’t help. Frisk’s mind was full of flames filled with heartache…

 

Her hand suddenly became almost too warm, and Asgore stopped holding it. Frisk looked down to find her palm engulfed in fire… and singed fur on her father’s hand. 

 

The color drained from Frisk’s face. “I’m sorry, Papa! I’m so, so sorry!” She shook her hand, but the flame only followed. It wasn’t going out! As she began to panic, Toriel gently gripped her wrist and hugged her close. 

 

“Calm yourself, my child,” Toriel murmured. “It is alright. Everything will be alright.”

 

Frisk looked like she was trapped in a nightmare. “I’m sorry, I’msorryI’msorry!”

 

“I know, Pumpkin,” said Asgore. “I am unhurt. I was shedding that fur, anyway. I am fine, do you see?” He showed Frisk his hand, which was indeed unharmed except for the singed fur, most of which easily fell as he brushed it off. He then used that same hand to brush away a tear from Frisk’s eye. He smiled, again saying, “I am fine.”

 

Frisk blinked in incomprehension as the flame continued to burn. “You… you’re not mad?”

 

It was Asgore’s turn to blink. “Why would I be? This was clearly an accident. I know you did not mean for it to happen.”

 

Frisk’s panicked thoughts slowed. She tried to stuff her memories back in their box, but they refused to budge. She didn’t know why, and her voice quavered as she said, “I can’t make it go away.”

 

Toriel continued to hold Frisk as she said, “You must create a still space within your SOUL and go there. A quiet place. It may help to envision a pond, or something else involving water. Let it fill your SOUL with peace, and the flame will recede.”

 

“Quiet… water?” 

 

Different memories filled Frisk’s mind. Memories of a hidden park bench, and the soft sound of a river as it flowed by. Soft, blue light from luminescent mushroom trees across the water filled the room. The sound of shared laughter echoing as she and Sans traded puns, and the wonder on his face as they talked about the surface. Even though she still had to make it past Undyne at the time, that moment of peace had been just what she needed to make it through the first trial with a cool head. 

 

Frisk held the memory tight, and the flame in her hand finally extinguished. 

 

Everyone in the room sighed in relief. Frisk returned her mother’s embrace before throwing her arms around Asgore. He pat her on the back and murmured soothing words, telling her she wasn’t in trouble. Toriel watched them for a moment, before Dr. Flat regained her attention.

 

“Miss Toriel, if I may offer my opinion?” After a nod, she continued. “I believe that, as long as she’s not experiencing anything abnormal, training may benefit Her Highness in many ways. Not only may she be able to defend herself, should she ever find herself separated from her guards, but it may also help her emotional and psychological states. 

 

“You may know this, but if someone can’t express the magic in their soul it can lead to serious problems. I’m beginning to suspect that Sans’ theory was correct, and the loss of Her Highness’ magic in the past has lead to this involuntary activation now that it’s returned. She never learned the essentials of how to control it growing up, as a monster would, and must make up for lost time while she can.”

 

Toriel thought about it for a long moment, looking back at her daughter as she and Asgore finally parted. Frisk was was sniffling a bit, and he smiled gently as he handed her a handkerchief. 

 

The poor girl had truly been through enough, but the doctor had a point. Forcing Frisk to suppress what was in her soul would do her no good. Even the “quiet water” trick Toriel just taught her was less about stifling one’s magic, and more about calming the emotions fueling it. That was the sort of thing Frisk  _ needed _ to learn. 

 

Toriel was beginning to realize how much her child had been deprived of when she lived with humans. Did she truly wish to be no better than them? Even if it was to “protect” her daughter, did she wish to cage Frisk, again? If her memory served her correctly, doing so once did no good, whatsoever. Was she going to let herself make the same mistake twice?

 

Toriel took a deep breath and made her decision. “My child, I want what is best for you. If it means teaching you magic, that is what we will do.” 

 

Frisk smiled, as warm as the sun and twice as bright. That was enough for both of her parents to feel at ease. 

* * *

 


	12. Letting Off Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an update on the case against Frisk's uncle. We learn more about a certain snooty baron. An earl and secretary interact. _Someone_ goes on a pranking spree...

* * *

 

 _“I know I’m adding a lot of original characters, but I don’t want them to feel like add-ons. I want them to have real value in the lives of the existing characters. I want the reader to feel like everyone has a place in the world I’m putting them all in. God only knows if I’ll succeed, but I want to at least try.”_ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 11: Letting Off Steam**

 

Asgore sat behind his desk, waiting to speak with Sans and Dante about what to do with Frisk’s uncle. Frisk was back on the surface with Toriel, taking her guards and the golden flower she was so fond of with her. As much as he was going to miss her, he was almost glad she wasn’t going to be present for this particular meeting.

 

This was not something to discuss in front of a child, no matter how mature she tried to be.

 

His office door opened and the two skeletons walked in. Dante bowed without his usual flourishes, and Sans just gave his usual irreverent wave. Asgore always appreciated it when protocol could be relaxed in private meetings like this. He invited them to sit down, and poured them tea from the pot he liked to keep on his desk. With the pleasantries out of the way, they could get down to business.

 

“So, what are we to do with Frisk’s uncle? Come to think of it, did he ever give us his name? I tried to ask Frisk, but she does not like speaking of him, for which I cannot blame her.”

 

Dante nodded. “He has, indeed, finally given us his name. It’s Argo Nautilus Kane, and you wouldn’t believe what my investigators had to go through just to get that much out of him.” The half-drake rolled his eyes. “He’s… rather fond of his expletives, and he’s been a jerk to everyone who’s spoken with him.”

 

Dante tilted his chair back, balancing on its back legs and his tail as he cradled his teacup and saucer in his hands. He shuddered and said, “My people say talking to him is like ‘staring into the abyss below Waterfall’. He told them the only reason he didn’t come for the princess sooner is because he chased after her without the proper provisions, and needed to go back home and resupply.

 

“He also wanted to set up some ‘business arrangements’. He didn’t say what manner of business, but he smiled when he said it. It gave the person interrogating him the creeps. It gave _me_ the creeps just reading the report!”

 

Sans’ eyes went dark, his normal grin fading. Dante stared at him, wondering what could have brought it on. Then he remembered his friend’s witness statement, specifically what “Uncle Argo” said he had in store for the princess. Dante’s jaw tightened, and he covered his mouth with a hand.

 

 _*Of all the disgusting-!!_ Dante forced himself to stop thinking about it, before he vomited all over Asgore’s nice rug.

 

The king wasn’t privy to that information, but from Dante’s reaction he could tell it wasn’t good. To help distract him from whatever it was, Asgore asked, “So, what charges are we filing against him?”

 

Dante shook his head, looking a little more like himself. “Since we can only charge him for crimes committed within the kingdom, we can’t nail him for what he did to the princess before she came here. Even so, that’s still two counts of murder for those poor souls he dusted outside of a Fight, attempted assassination of a member of the royal family, resisting arrest, attempted murder of a royal guard, assault of a royal guard, and assault for the rock monster he chipped.”

 

He shrugged with one hand and shoulder. “As it stands, he’s looking at a very, _very_ long time-out. That is, unless his hidden LV is as high as we think it is, because his visible LV is surprisingly low. He’s also unrepentant, so I think it’s going to be hard for someone to defend him. Finding an unbiased judge might be easier, even though we only have four and Sans.”

 

Dante righted his chair so he could poke Sans in the cheekbone with the tip of his tail. “Since having your only brother nearly die tends to bias a guy, Sans can’t handle the case. Unless, of course, all the others agree that the human needs a once-in-a-lifetime date with The Duke. _Then_ Sans can kiss him goodnight.”

 

Sans blushed a bit, smacking the tail away. “stop that! and i _really_ wish you never dreamed up those new phrases.” He understood how sugar-coating things was what they’d always done (calling a crime a “no-no”, or saying “time-out” instead of “incarceration”, et cetera). But the phrases Dante came up with were just so…!

 

Dante’s tail came back, poking Sans under his nasal opening, this time. He tut-tutted, saying, “You know I wouldn’t come up with such things if you weren’t so cute when you’re embarrassed, Sansy.” The tail moved to tickle Sans under his chin, whose unamused expression made Dante laugh before it was smacked, again.

 

“gotta say, bud, they don’t exactly roll off the tongue,” said Sans.

 

Dante retorted with, “They don’t have to. If they make you blush, I’m using them.” He winked, knowing it annoyed Sans to be flirted with. His friend eventually grinned back and chuckled, too used to his antics by now to be truly mad.

 

While Dante didn’t normally flirt with people that didn’t want the attention, Sans was an exception. He just made it so much fun! And he could pout (or as close as skeletons got to doing so). Not many were able to pull it off but Sans could, and looked adorable when he did. He’d always been _so_ cute!

 

It was amazing nobody had snatched him up, yet. Then again, Sans never seemed very interested in _being_ snatched, or snatching up someone for himself. And he got angry whenever Dante tried to set him up on a date. _Really_ angry. So much so that Sans refused to talk to him for months, which was why he stopped trying.

 

Still, he worried about his friend being lonely. While it wasn’t exactly what Dante had in mind for him, at least Sansy found new friends in both Queen Toriel and the princess. It was good to see him smiling more like he used to.

 

Asgore cleared his throat in an attempt to get the meeting back on-track. While it was nice to see the boys getting along, there was one last question he needed to ask. “If it comes down to an execution, should we truly go forward with it, Sans?”

 

The indicated skeleton frowned in thought, sipping his tea to buy himself a little time. When he set the cup down he said, “yeah, i do. the man is a menace, and i don’t think he’s given up on hurting frisk. ‘future monster/human relations’ be damned, he is _done_ hurting her, and everyone else, no matter what i have to do to make him stop. ” His words made Dante roll his eyes, muttering _so biased_ under his breath.

 

Sans continued as though he heard nothing. “trouble is, if the lesser judges DO come to that conclusion, ‘uncle argo’s’ family needs to be notified, somehow. gotta go by the book, after all.” He shrugged with shoulders and hands. “who are we gonna send to serve papers all the way to the middle of a human city, which is farther away than the ranch frisk ran from?”

 

While living in the castle, Frisk told them what she knew of the places where humans lived. Naturally, where she’d lived were the most detailed. Her uncle’s ranch was a day’s horse-ride to the east, on the opposite side of the mountain where everyone made camp. New Ebott Town was another three days by carriage in the same direction. It was the biggest human settlement around, with five times the population of the entire Kingdom of Monsters. To send any monster, or group of them, that far into potentially hostile territory was insane.

 

Moreover, Frisk’s great-grandfather founded the place after The Blackout. Once the Old City fell into ruin during the calamity, Great-granddaddy Kane took charge from whoever dropped the ball and helped what few survivors there were… survive. The Kanes have ruled over New Ebott Town ever since, with no sign of ever giving it up. In fact, Frisk’s grandfather was on top of the heap, at the moment. Whoever served the papers, “Governor-for-life” Kane just might decide to shoot the messenger. From what little Frisk told them, he seemed like the type who couldn’t handle bad news very well.

 

* _things just get better and better_ _,_ _don’t they?_ Sans thought to himself. Somebody that could send a sweet kid like Frisk off to live with an beast like her uncle was bound to be a piece of work, themselves. No wonder she was so happy to live with “monsters”.

 

Sans used to think she was a special case victim, but now he wasn’t so sure. It was looking more like what she’d endured was plain old abuse, mainly emotional and probably physical, too. Just another sensitive subject to talk with the kid about, on top of exactly how she caused anomalies. Another topic he couldn’t think of how to broach without potentially putting her back up.

 

He’d come a long way in earning her trust, and he didn’t want to wreck it by being too hasty. He wasn’t going to ask her to divulge more than she was comfortable with, not when it was so hard for her to talk about the simplest things concerning her family. The info on Governor Kane, for example.

 

Frisk had given them information on the _governor_ , not her grandfather. She described him in his capacity as leader of New Ebott Town, and didn’t address him in any affectionate manner. When she _had_ to talk about her family she spoke concisely, and got the conversation over with as soon as possible.

 

It was probably all part of how she wasn’t supposed to talk about her home life. It wasn’t that she was trying to be obstructive or unhelpful; it was more like she’d been conditioned to keep her mouth shut, and it was almost physically painful for her to talk about them. She must’ve had a real bad time, with them…

 

“whatever we do,” said Sans, “it’s gotta be done right. we need to follow the letter of the law, and let everyone know we are. the humans also need to understand that, if they break those laws while they’re on our turf, they’re gonna have the book thrown at ‘em, the same as anyone else.”

 

And Sans was more than happy to throw it, himself, as hard as it took to _make_ them understand. That he couldn’t do so right this minute grated on his bones. But there were plenty of ways to vent one’s frustrations…

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

T.N. Roman Corinthians, the Baron of Ampersand, strode through the halls that housed his family’s business empire. If one could call dominating a single kingdom’s economy an “empire,” which the baron did not. He had dreams of expanding that empire, of course, but all things happened in good time, and there were preparations to be made before then. He also had something else on his mind, but it wouldn’t do to think about it right before a meeting. The thought was put on the back burner as he reached his destination.

 

He entered the boardroom, his company officers rising from their seats and bowing to him (as they should). He gave them all a graceful nod, acknowledging them before taking his seat as CEO of Pillar Enterprises.

 

The company’s motto, “Supporting your community with everything you need,” was the bedrock upon which it was founded. They once traded goods far and wide, and humans of all walks of life used to clamor whenever the wagon came rolling into town. Monster-made goods such as spider silk and yarn made of monster wool were especially popular because, after being treated with potions, they became nigh-imperishable as long as they were undamaged. But the monsters’ loss of the war and being sealed under the mountain put an end to those glorious days.

 

For generations the Corinthians did their best to maintain the standard of quality they’d been known for, and it hadn’t always been easy as the years stretched into centuries. But even with limited resources, the backing of the king and triumphs of progress in the alchemical fields made it possible. Pillar Enterprises was now at the forefront of every trend, could anticipate any desire, and Ampersand was proud to be a part of it. He was proud to be one of the pillars of his kingdom (pun NOT intended), no matter how much grief he was given for being the youngest entitled member of the nobility.

 

Ampersand looked each of his officers in the eyes in turn, making sure he had their attention. With his palms flat on the table, and perfect posture, he addressed them like the noble he was.

 

“People, Sirs and Madams, I am pleased to report the successful planting of Surface Farm Alpha.” He paused to allow a smattering of polite applause before continuing.

 

“With the generous insight provided by Her Highness during her brief visit to these offices, some much-needed modifications were implemented for this first phase of our move back to sun-and-rain-based farming. However, she was the first to caution us that her knowledge is purely academic, and she had yet to practice it in the ‘real world’. Even so, I believe she has saved us a substantial amount of trial and error.”

 

As more applause sounded, Ampersand thought to himself, * _For a grubby little human, I suppose she’s not all bad._ Though, to be fair, she cleaned up rather well. She actually looked respectable now, compared to how she looked during the meeting where she confessed to everyone. She also seemed to have a working mind in that head of hers. _And_ she seemed genuinely interested in the kingdom’s economic future, if not so much the company’s. Then again, she was just a child. She wouldn’t have the same priorities as an adult.

 

Still, she wouldn’t be in that striped sweater forever. It would be worth looking into forging a relationship with her, if only so she’d be more inclined to lend her aid in trade negotiations with the humans.

 

It was something to consider for the future. Ampersand refocused upon the present, listening to his officers as they relayed their own news. The state of their finances, updates on the plans for a new corporate office to be built on the surface… everything was covered, making it a very comprehensive meeting.

 

Ampersand liked it when things went smoothly. While it was always prudent to have secondary (even tertiary) plans in place, because unforeseen circumstances were always a problem, it gave him a good feeling to know his first plan had been the right one. To him, it meant he was doing things correctly, that he was upholding his family’s reputation and his company’s to the standards he was expected to maintain.

 

The thought he’d put on the back burner returned to the front. Those standards were probably why he disliked the Duke of Asterisk so strongly. That man simply did not behave as a peer of the realm should. It was so… _frustrating_ to be outranked by somebody like him! When the meeting ended Ampersand went to his office to vent, just a little.

 

Not only was Duke Asterisk a lazy, disorganized slob, rumor had it he was getting closer and closer to not _just_ the former queen, but to the princess, as well. And he was doing it by looking into whatever happened to the girl last week.

 

Just what was the old man up to? What game was he trying to play, this time? Behind the locked door of his office, Ampersand let the fire in his soul rage, covering his bones as he paced around on the fireproof rug. His office was also soundproofed, so he could yell all he wanted.

 

“ _DAMN_ you, Asterisk! You’re just the High Judge! Who do you think you are, playing doctor and alchemist and law master?! Do your OWN damned job for once in your life and leave your big nose out of _everyone else’s!!!_ ”

 

Ampersand caught his breath, ribs heaving and fire flaring with each exhale. He took deeper and deeper breaths until he could bring his temper back under control. He ran his hands over his skull from brow ridges to the back of his neck, and his flames subsided.

 

It was shameful, but try as he might he simply could not rid himself of his temper flare-ups! He quickly checked to make sure he didn’t exceed his clothing’s temperature limitations (being the finest in fireproofed attire, they were perfectly alright). Now calm, Ampersand asked himself, * _Why does he get me so riled up?_

 

Was it the terrible wordplay? The childish practical jokes? Or maybe it was how he always seemed to be the popular one, no matter where he went? That wasn’t to say he was popular with _everyone_ , but people still flocked to him, regardless. Women were especially fond of him…

 

Maybe that was it. While Ampersand had wealth, looks and intelligence, he still couldn’t seem to find a woman that wanted to spend more than five minutes with him. Meanwhile, Duke Never-Had-a-Date-In-His-Life found himself drowning in female attention. And _all_ the female skeletons anywhere near Ampersand’s age were Asterisk’s cousins! It was just so _frustrating!_

 

The Corinthians family strongly believed in remaining a skeleton’s household. That meant marrying other skeletons whenever possible. If there were none available, then another Boss Monster (or one with power approaching those levels) was the only acceptable substitute. They were typically drakes like the Flat family, and sometimes manticores like the Phantoms. Unfortunately, there weren’t very many to go around.

 

While it wasn’t exactly frowned upon to look elsewhere for companionship, Ampersand still felt immense pressure to find a skeleton bride and give his mother grandchildren before she passed on. As her only child, he was the only one who could.

 

He’d been born on the day of the Core Incident, amid fear and dread as the entire mountain threatened to crush them all. He didn’t remember any of it, of course, but the trauma his mother endured made her over-protective of him. She became doubly so after his father was lost in a factory accident, passing down the family’s title to him. To this day, Lady Ampersand wanted her son near during earthquakes, just to be sure he was safe.

 

The current baron wanted to show her he’d be alright, once she was gone. She’d spent his entire life worrying about him, and he didn’t want her afterlife to be filled with the same. He didn’t have much time before she left, either.

 

But he would have to work on that, later. He was a master at juggling his responsibilities (unlike a certain someone), and at the moment he had paperwork to sort through before he was done for the day and could go home. With a soft sigh he pulled his chair away from his desk and sat down…

 

…only to have the most crude, most annoying, most _bone-grating_ sound of a whoopee cushion fill his entire office with its never-to-be-sufficiently-damned noise. One eye socket twitched before Ampersand’s flames roared to life once more.

 

“ _COMIC SANS GAAAASTEEEERRR!!!_ ”

 

Outside, his secretary rolled his eyes. The office wasn’t quite as soundproof as his boss thought, and it sounded like yet another prank had been pulled on him.

 

Watching as flames licked out from beneath the door, he figured it was a good thing a better job was done on the fireproofing.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Lady Pristina Phantom walked down the halls, away from the offices of the High Judge. Her face was smoothed of any expression, and she politely nodded whenever she was greeted. If one didn’t know any better they would think nothing of it, unless they were inclined to admire a pretty monster as she passed by. But those who _did_ know better saw a huntress on the prowl.

 

* _The Duke must have disappeared_ _again_ , they would think to themselves with a snigger, his laziness well-known to those who worked in the castle. They would think he was fortunate she loved him like a brother, otherwise she might have dusted him long ago.

 

Pristina would protest if she ever heard those thoughts expressed aloud. She would _never_ think of dusting Sans! But shaking him until he was thoroughly rattled…?

 

However, it would be undignified to let her exasperation show, at the moment. So she maintained her calm exterior as she strode to Lord Sharpe’s office.

 

Pristina almost pouted. Dante was _such_ an enabler. He had a couch set up in his office just so Sans could nap on it. It was no wonder those old rumors about the two of them still swirled around! She always figured Dante had that couch because he worried about Sans’ health, and wanted him to relax in peace at every opportunity he could find. She didn’t know the real reason, because the one time she asked about it Dante answered with, “Because I’d do anything to see you more often, including using Sans as a lure.”

 

She never asked again, figuring she’d always get a flirtatious answer. And the cream of the jest was that she couldn’t stay mad at Dante for it, because she’d been worried about Sans, too! He was the older brother she never had, and it was painful to see him so tired. Increased fatigue was one of the early signs of someone about to fall down…

 

But, amazingly, Sans managed to stay just outside the final stages of the condition. He might have been sleeping more often than he used to, but nobody could say he wasn’t doing his job as High Judge.

 

Most of it, anyway. There always seemed to be a mountain of paperwork that needed his signature, cases where a second opinion was requested, new ordinances for him to review before they could be put in the books, and OLD ordinances to be reviewed before they were updated, or perhaps removed from the books.

 

In short, even though there was an average of only two or three executions every nine years (a record starting from the first days of the kingdom’s imprisonment), there was still plenty of work for the High Judge to do between them. That was what Sans shirked daily, bringing Pristina to Dante’s office.

 

She knocked, then entered the outer office and waiting room where Dante’s secretary worked. A dapper slime with a carefully sculpted coif and bright red tie looked up, then smiled with their one eye.

 

“Hello, Pristina!” they said, burbling a little. “Looking for His Honor, again?”

 

She nodded. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen him today, Jell?”

 

Jell shook their head. “’fraid not. But you know how it is. I think he uses the earl’s window like a door, most days. I usually only see him leaving.” The two of them rolled their eyes at Sans’ antics, knowing full well he could come and go as mysteriously as he pleased. If he didn’t, that meant he _wanted_ to mess with people. “Anyway, the earl isn’t seeing anyone, at the moment. You can go right in.”

 

Pristina smiled, thanking them before knocking on Dante’s door. He bid her to enter, and didn’t even look up from his work terminal as she shut the door behind her.

 

“Hi, Tina,” he said as he typed away. “How can I help my little cinna-bun today?”

 

Pristina stopped her blush before it could reach her cheekbones. He’d been calling her that for as long as she could remember! Ever since she ate her first cinnamon bunny and loved it. There was no reason for the nickname to embarrass her so much now.

 

At least he only called her that in private settings.  (Thank goodness for small favors…)

 

“Good day to you, My Lord,” she said with a bow (she was in slacks today, so a curtsey would’ve looked silly.) “I came to inquire of His Honor’s whereabouts. He has yet to return to the office, although your joint meeting with His Majesty has long since ended.”

 

Dante sighed, dramatically. “So formal, even though you don’t have to be. Where did I go wrong?” Pristina said nothing, not wanting to rise to the bait. Seeing that, Dante shrugged. “Sorry, but I don’t know where Sans went. We split up after seeing Asgore and I haven’t seen him since. I assumed he was going to his office.”

 

* _He is ALWAYS doing this!_ Pristina thought to herself as her jaw tightened. She closed her eye sockets, took a deep breath and held it for a slow ten-count before letting it out. * _If  I guessed how difficult this job would be, I never would’ve volunteered for it_ , she thought to herself.

 

Grandfather Rockwell (though he was technically her great-great-so-on uncle) maintained the office of High Judge until his growing frailty forced him to retire a few years before his passing. All of the lesser judges of the time were tested to find his successor, and Sans was the one to inherit their grandfather’s hood. Despite whispers of nepotism, Pristina knew he’d earned it.

 

So why, in the name of all that was good and decent, did Sans keep _doing_ this?! Running off god-only-knew-where, whenever he wanted to?! His antics frustrated her predecessors so much they kept quitting. He’d gone through so many secretaries that people joked he wore them out like socks. Pristina knew she was just the latest victim of the whimsical side of her cousin’s nature. If only he could apply the same effort he gave special cases to every other aspect of his job, things would be fine!

 

Then again, he’d probably wear himself out, if he did. And if she hadn’t become his secretary, who’d be there to look after the big lug?

 

“Feeling any better?” asked Dante. Pristina opened her eyes to find a commiserating look on his face. “It’s not easy, I know. Sansy’s always been a handful and a half, and the way he’s been running around, trying to get to the bottom of what happened to the princess isn’t helping. And he’s always been _very_ good at sneaking away for naps in between bursts of activity. But I guess that’s part and parcel to what makes him who he is.”

 

“I know. I just wish…” Pristina trailed off, not sure what she wished for her cousin.

 

Dante smiled understandingly. “I know, cinna-bun. But do you want to know the funny thing?” When Pristina nodded he said, “I’m willing to bet that, by the time you get back to your office, all that paperwork will be done. Signatures, initials, seals of office, the whole deal.”

 

Pristina was doubtful. “Just how much of a bet?”

 

“How about… a date, if I’m right? Just one.”

 

“And if you’re wrong?”

 

“If I’m wrong… I guess I’ll kick Sans off my office couch for a week.”

 

Pristina was tempted. _Very_ tempted. She didn’t really want to go on a date with Dante, but an _entire week_ of one less place to look for him? It was too good to pass up.

 

“Very well, My Lord. You’re on.” They shook on it, sealing the deal. Pristina returned to her office, intent on showing Dante unsigned paperwork.

 

When she got back, every singe page was done. Every signature was in place, every initial, all the stamps and seals and dates were perfect. Her pupils nearly bugged out of her head, she was so flabbergasted.

 

And there was _no_ other sign Sans came anywhere near the office! Granted, he had his own keys to the door, but the pickle jar he kept on his desk to snack and drink from still held four spears, the same as when she left to look for him. He’d never miss an opportunity to grab one, normally. The amount of brine was the same, too. Did he leave it alone just to make her doubt he’d ever been here?

 

Thinking on it, she had a feeling Sans and Dante somehow conspired to generate this outcome. It was just like the two of them to pull something like this. They owed each other favors going back decades, and they’d probably spend the rest of their lives trading them in. She _really_ should have kept that in mind before agreeing to the bet.

 

And, knowing her cousin, this wouldn’t be the only prank he’d be pulling on her today.

 

Suspicious, Pristina checked her chair and found a whoopee cushion. She tossed it into the usual corner before sitting down. She opened a drawer in her desk…

 

…and yet another whoopee cushion sang its crude little song as she did. Somehow, in the short time Sans had until she returned, he did all his paperwork _and_ rigged her desk. There were probably more such traps waiting for her all over the office, if he was on one of his prank binges.

 

If Pristina wasn’t feeling so humiliated she’d be impressed. But now, because of him, she had to go on a date with someone nicknamed “the horny drake.” Pulling her c-phone out of her pocket, she sent her cousin a text message before getting back to work.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans was laying on his couch in Snowdin when his c-phone chirped, letting him know he received a message. Then it went off again, and again as more and more messages came in. Reaching past the empty glass of pickling brine he’d enjoyed after a hard day’s pranking, he scrolled through them, chuckling all the while.

 

From Dante: Thanks, pal. Consider us even for That Time. You know, the one where the slime thought you were flirting? *wink* Love you! *kissy lips*

 

From Frisk: How did you have the time to put a whoopee cushion in my sleeping bag, up here on the surface? *confused face*

 

From Toriel: Our little friend seems to be enjoying its new mattress. Thank you, Sans! *smiley face* (Attached was a photo of the snail that nearly suffocated him a few days ago, sliming up the whoopee cushion he left in Toriel’s teapot. The cushion was still inflated, making that prank a bust. Then again, he’d shoved it in there pretty tight. If she was feeling sneaky, she could have deflated it to get it out, then inflated it for her picture… Sans continued scrolling, tucking the thought into the back of his mind.)

 

From Papyrus: OH MY GOD WHEN DID YOU PUT WHOOPEE CUSHIONS IN MY BOOTS I DIDN’T KNOW THEY CAME THAT SMALL!?!!?

 

From Talia: Thank you for leaving whoopee cushions in the children’s ward. The damn things haven’t stopped going since the kids found them. I like hearing them laugh as much as anyone, but _come on_.

 

From Pristina: Sans, I love you. But if I get my hands on you today, I will roll you into a snow poff and LEAVE you there!!!

 

From Alphys: Whoopee cushions on my shelves so they poot when I put books back? Really? =/

 

By the time he was done reading them all, Sans’ ribs were hurting from his laughter. Roman didn’t know his c-phone number, otherwise he’d let him know how **fired up** Sans’ pranks left him feeling. But these reactions were what he pranked people for (despite the risk of failure), and he **relish** ed the confusion he engendered in the people around him.

On days like this, guys like him just needed a laugh to make them feel better about everything else going on in their life. Maybe next time he could recruit Frisk to help him out? Sans smiled fondly at the thought.

Kiddo always looked like she needed a laugh, too.

* * *

 


	13. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowey reflects, Papyrus accepts, Toriel protects, and Frisk... rejects.

* * *

 

_ “Here I am, making Frisk magic all of a sudden… but how’s that  _ really _ going to affect them? How will their learning magic affect their relationships with the monsters closest to them?”  _ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 12: Bonding**

 

Flowey sat in his flowerpot, basking in the sun as he watched Toriel trying to teach Frisk about magic. He tuned her out, thinking about the human that brought him here. He used everything he learned about humans to try and figure her out.

 

He hadn’t been kidding when he told Frisk he read every book in the Underground. He even read everything in the records room of the Lab. It was easy for him to break in and crawl through the vents with his vines, so he pretty much knew everything Sans and Alphys did about “determination” and humans.

 

Although the old notes didn’t call it that, they held hints of a power humans possessed that surpassed a monster’s. The power to inspire one another, and “impress.” To touch other lives on a level higher than words, or even actions (whether good, bad or indifferent). More than simple “charisma,” it was like they carved themselves into your soul. One researcher even said “tis as though they carve their self into the very earth, upon which they stand in defiance of Fate.” 

 

If that wasn’t determination, Flowey didn’t know what else it could be. And a soul wasn’t the only thing determination could affect.

 

Although he couldn’t feel emotions now, the memories of Frisk’s mercy still affected him. Remembering the way she reached out to him, how it felt to be “saved”, made him less willing to hurt others (though it might’ve only been because he didn’t want to be lectured by her). He was still strong enough to kill her if he wanted to… but he didn’t, even if she  _ was _ passing him off as some sort of plant-pet. He knew she’d just come back, no matter how many times he killed her. And… he didn’t want to see the look on her face when she did. 

 

Even though he couldn’t feel anything, Frisk trusted him. Well, maybe “anything” was too strong a word to use. There was that one thing, that tiny little something in the place he kept his memories of being “saved” as Asriel. Flowey didn’t know what it was, but he’d spent too long not being able to feel  _ anything _ . If Frisk was what made even the smallest hint of emotion possible, he’d use every scrap of determination he had to keep her alive. 

 

Refocusing on the present, Flowey watched as Frisk tried to summon her magic, just to see what form it would take. She wasn’t having much luck, for some reason. She’d shown him how she could summon a spear like Undyne, so why wasn’t it working now? Frisk was so weird. She was nothing like Chara.

 

Chara could summon magic knives and used magic to change their voice to do impressions, but they hid the fact they were a magician from everyone but Asriel. It’d been their little secret, just between them. It was one of the ways Chara made him- made Asriel trust them. So seeing Frisk summon those knives with her left hand, just like Chara used to, was something of a shock. Moreover, Flowey saw her profile when she was looking at Sans, just before she summoned that huge knife over her uncle. She was making Chara’s “creepy face” as she said she wanted him to suffer, which was equally as shocking. 

 

The face was shocking, not the words. Chara wanted all humans to suffer, so it wasn’t surprising to hear them say that, in anyone’s voice. 

 

Frisk and Chara couldn’t have been more different. But at that moment it’d been like his best friend was standing there, alive and well and  _ angry _ . It was no wonder he confused them as being the same person, for a while. And then there was that weird thing about Frisk not being able to hear Chara’s name properly…

 

Had they somehow found a way to cheat death, the way he had? Flowey didn’t know exactly how he’d come back to life (if you could call being soulless a “life”). But he suspected it had something to do with the “carving yourself in the earth” aspect of determination. 

 

Golden flower seeds stuck to everything they touched. They were probably stuck to both Chara and Asriel when they returned to the Underground. By the time Flowey came to be, and he went to go see his moth- when he went to see Toriel in Home, golden flowers were already growing in that one room. It was the place where Chara was buried, instead of “hanging out” in the castle basement with the other human bodies.

 

With the determination from their combined souls had their “selves”, their memories, been “carved” into those seeds? Was that why he was alive, now? Was it the same for Chara? Could they be alive inside of Frisk, somehow awoken by her determination? 

 

How was that even possible? According to Alphys’ lab notes, she lost count of how many DT injections she gave Flowey’s body before she gave up. Did Frisk have  _ that much _ determination? Or was it just that easy for humans to share DT? 

 

He didn’t know. All he knew was that Frisk was the weirdest person he’d ever met. And one of the least boring. 

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Unaware of her friend’s thoughts, Frisk was pouting as she and her mother stared at one another. Her failure to summon anything remotely magical using the techniques Toriel just taught her weren’t bearing fruit, baffling them both and frustrating Frisk. 

 

“Perhaps we are rushing this,” said Toriel. “Forcing yourself to summon magic is not good for you.”

 

“But I can do it!” said Frisk. To prove it, she remembered her fight with Undyne, summoning a spear yet again. “THIS is easy! I don’t understand how trying to summon anything else is so hard.” And if she loosened her grip on the memory, even for a second, the magic dissipated into nothing, which she did for the moment. But if she ever needed it in an emergency she doubted she could hold onto her memories  _ and _ deal with whatever situation she found herself in. She hadn’t been able to summon those pencils… or the knives. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted to use those, again, anyway. Especially the knives.

 

Toriel’s brow was furrowed in thought. “My child, just what are you doing when you do that?”

 

“I’m remembering my fight with Undyne.” 

 

“What, exactly, does that entail?”

 

Frisk shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… remember.” Seeing Toriel’s doubtful expression, she tried to expand on her explanation. 

 

“It was an emotionally charged fight. She wanted to kill me so Father didn’t have to and everyone would be freed. I wanted to live and find a way to help everyone without dying. My will clashed against hers, even though I kept running away… I don’t know how else to explain it.” Not without also having to explain dying and coming back, anyway.

 

Toriel was still baffled. “That is odd… I have never heard of memories being tied to one’s magic so intimately…” Struck by a thought, Toriel gasped a little. “My child, when you summoned fire to your hand, the other day, what were you remembering then?”

 

Frisk almost didn’t answer, but made herself say the words, anyway. “I was remembering our fight.” She didn’t know what else to say, and watched her mother press a hand over her chest, her expression close to tears. 

 

“Frisk…! My dear, sweet child, I am so very, very sorry.”

 

“I know, Mother. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, at all.” Frisk smiled, trying to show Toriel she held no hard feelings over it, because she didn’t. 

 

Though the fireballs hurt, they held none of the sheer rage and hatred her uncle’s fists had. Even if Frisk was to combine the attacks of every Boss Monster she faced, all that pain and fear didn’t even come  _ close _ to matching what she experienced laying in the bloodflowers that fateful day. The only thing that did was Flowey’s power-fueled lunacy. But, despite everything he put her through, she never felt any hate from him. 

 

The feeling that he was toying with her, just because he could? Definitely felt that. Hatred, however, was notable in its absence.

 

Toriel stepped closer, and Frisk wrenched her thoughts back to the present. Her mother hugged her, just like she did when their fight was over. Frisk returned the embrace. She could feel a small jolt run through Toriel’s body, and she relaxed her arms to look Frisk in the eyes.

 

“Perhaps it would be easier to show you how to summon magic properly, instead of trying to explain,” she said with a smile.

 

Frisk tilted her head to one side, intrigued but confused. “But I’ve seen you summon magic, before.”

 

Toriel nodded. “Yes, but you have not  _ felt _ how I do so. Here, face away from me and take a seat.” 

 

Frisk obeyed, winding up in Toriel’s lap as they sat on the ground. Her parents were both so big, even though she was a teenager (a short one, but still a teen) they made her feel so small! It was embarrassing… but the attention-starved girl deep inside didn’t mind one bit as her mother’s arms wrapped around her, again.

 

Ignoring any embarrassment on her daughter’s part, Toriel reached for Frisk with her soul, just as she did that day in the hospital. Though Frisk’s inner cage was back in place the little one she kept there was closer to the bars, reaching through them to her. Relieved, Toriel let her love for Frisk fill her soul.

 

“Do you feel what I am doing, my child?” she asked. After Frisk nodded, Toriel cupped her hands before them both. “Now, pay attention.” 

 

She tapped into her magic and flame danced in her palms. She asked Frisk, “Do you feel it?” After another nod, Toriel said, “Do your best to emulate what you are feeling.” In order to aid Frisk she moved the fire to one hand and held the girl with the other, to keep her close. As Frisk began her attempts Toriel could not help but be reminded of when Asriel was small, and just starting to use magic…

 

But unlike Asriel, Frisk never felt the magic in the people around her, much less her parents’ soul-deep joy as they welcomed her into the world. After so much exposure to magic starting from birth, a monster child had some idea of how to express their soul after a certain age… but Frisk did not. In fact, even with Toriel setting an example for her, the girl was still struggling with manifesting something besides a memory. At one point she came very close, only to lose whatever-it-was before it could appear. Her body tensed, and fear built in her soul…

 

Perhaps a gentle reminder was in order? “Remember, my child, that magic need not be fire, nor a weapon. It is whatever dwells within your soul. You need not fear judgement or failure, so do not hold back.” When those words changed nothing Toriel said, “I am here for you, Frisk. I always will be, no matter what.” She hugged her daughter, and some of the tension in her body finally eased, though the fear remained. Toriel could not guess exactly what Frisk was so afraid of.

 

Reaching for another’s soul was not mind-reading. Feelings could be shared, but not thoughts. Toriel focused on being as comforting as possible, reaching through the bars Frisk caged herself in. The fear only grew stronger, and seemed to be inhibiting the girl’s attempts at magic. 

 

Frisk’s breathing became shaky, and her body trembled in spite of her efforts to conceal it. It got to the point where Toriel was compelled to ask, “My child, what troubles you so?” When Frisk didn’t answer Toriel dismissed the fire in her hand and retracted her reach into Frisk’s soul, lifting her daughter from her lap and taking a better look at her.

 

Frisk’s eyes were open wide, yet not truly focused on anything. She did not appear to see Toriel, nor hear her when she called. Frisk’s expression was on the verge of tears, and her teeth began to chatter as she spoke at last.

 

“D-d-dark…” 

 

Toriel shook her head. “It is mid-morning. We are outside, in the sun. Can you not feel it?” 

 

Frisk’s teeth chattered even harder. “C-c-c-cold… Why? M-mommy,  _ why? _ I w-wasn’t b-bad. I d-did what y-you said. I was g-good! So  _ why?? _ ” Tears fell from her eyes, wrenching Toriel’s soul even as fury built in one corner.

 

Just what did that wench  _ do _ to this precious child? And  _ why _ did she not consider emotional trauma, as well as physical injury when she objected to Frisk’s training?!

 

Promising to speak with Asgore later, Toriel shoved all other thoughts aside and focused on Frisk. She reached to her child’s soul again, only to feel some…  _ thing _ in the cage with the little one. It dragged her just out of reach and wrapped itself around her, blinding and deafening her to everything else.

 

Aching, chilling loneliness filled with contempt for wanting companionship. Doubt for others, even as she doubted herself. Blazing hatred, endless sorrow, rage born of helplessness and so much stomach-churning fear… All of it radiated from the black mass covering the little one as though it was stickier than tar. Toriel could feel her fighting it, trying to reject it, but there was just too much! Frisk was completely mired in her own negative feelings and the sheer impossibility of it stunned Toriel.

 

How could one carry all of this inside them, yet still be so loving and kind? Where did it come from? She should have detected feelings this strong long ago! How did Frisk manage to hide it all? What-?

 

“ MISS TORIEL? WHAT’S WRONG WITH PRINCESS HUMAN FRISK? AND WHY DOES SHE LOOK ALMOST LIKE SANS DOES WHEN HE HAS A BAD DREAM?? ” 

 

Papyrus’ voice jolted Toriel out of her perusal of Frisk’s inner being. She found him waving a hand before Frisk’s eyes, looking concerned when they didn’t follow, or acknowledge him in anyway. 

 

He lifted his visor and nodded to himself. “ DEFINITELY A BAD DREAM. A NIGHTMARE, EVEN! ALTHOUGH, NORMALLY PEOPLE FALL ASLEEP BEFORE HAVING THEM! ” 

 

Toriel blinked for a moment, amazed at how calm Papyrus seemed. Then, she recalled what he’d just said. “Sans has bad dreams?”

 

The royal guard’s shoulders twitched, and he looked off to one side, sweating a little under his helm. He wasn’t supposed to tell people about that! “ ERM… W-WE SHOULD HELP THE PRINCESS! BEFORE HER DREAM GETS TOO BAD! ” He knelt beside Frisk, placing a hand on her shoulder before shaking firmly, yet gently. 

 

“ Princess? We are here. Your mother and your best friend, the Great Royal Guard Papyrus, are here! ”

 

Papyrus’ cadence was softer than usual (since his normal volume had done nothing to snap Frisk out of her trance), and his eye sockets were glowing as he spoke. Toriel knew skeletons did so as they reached for others’ souls, but it had been a long time since she’d seen it… and she laughed in one corner of her mind, because his irises were orange! A bit brighter than Frisk’s, of course, but still orange. She wondered if Frisk knew that…

 

Toriel shook her head. This was no time for distractions! She joined Papyrus in reaching for the little one within Frisk, though he too had been stopped by the cage. But he wasn’t giving up.

 

“ Human Frisk! You must wake up! Wherever you think you are, you’re NOT there! You’re with friends and family. People that care about you. We will protect you, even if it’s from yourself! ”

 

Papyrus reached for the little one, his soul warm and caring, braving the darkness. She was reaching back… but the darkness swelled, reacting to his presence and rejecting him. It lashed out and Papyrus withdrew his hand from Frisk’s shoulder, feeling as though he’d been physically struck. Such was the danger of such deep interaction with another’s soul. He shook his hand thinking that, while it stung, there hadn’t been any real intent to hurt him. She was just scared. And very, very lonely. 

 

Just like him…

 

But  _ unlike _ him, she didn’t have someone like Sans to quell her fears. Nor did she have someone like Pristina, or his other cousins, to ease her loneliness. She only had herself, and clearly she wasn’t doing the best job of it. Well, she had the Great Royal Guard Papyrus, now! And he wasn’t done helping his friend, yet!

 

“ Human Frisk, that is enough! ” He reached for Frisk’s soul again, this time with both hands on both her shoulders and eyes glowing brighter. “ You can kick me out all you like, but I’ll still be here, like the great friend I am! Because that’s what great friends do! It’s… it’s what  _ family _ does, Frisk! ”

 

Frisk’s brow furrowed, confused. The dark mass inside twisted, receding yet remaining wrapped around the little one. “Fa…mily?” She said the word so hesitantly, like it was completely foreign to her, though she had to know its meaning… Papyrus was at a bit of a loss, because she was too smart and cool to NOT know the meaning of that word!

 

Toriel nodded, adding more of her magic to their efforts. “Papyrus is correct, Frisk. You are an important part of our lives. You are no longer alone. You have all of us, now. So please, tell us. What is wrong? Why do you think you are being bad?”

 

“I…” 

 

Frisk was trying. Both monsters could feel that she was trying to break free from the morass inside her, but despite all the warmth they were sending it was still so cold! Even so, Frisk fought it as bravely as she fought Fate. They could feel the steel in Frisk’s soul harden and sharpen, cutting away the blackness enough that she could breathe and speak, if not escape.

 

Her eyes were still unfocused, but she didn’t look so lost, anymore. Frisk made herself speak through sheer determination. “I… was about t-to go up. But up is b-bad. Mommy… M-Mother said I’m not allowed to go up, anymore.” 

 

Toriel grasped either side of Frisk’s face and Papyrus moved away to give her space. Firmly, she said, “My child,  _ I _ am your mother, am I not? Look at me.” 

 

The child focused on her face, hesitantly. The fear inside was building again, and Toriel gentled her tone. “I am your mother. I told you to use your magic however you wished. If that means going ‘up’, then by all means go up! I will not stop you.” Although what “up” meant was a bit of a mystery…

 

Frisk’s voice was tinier than her inner self as she said, “…you’re not mad?” 

 

Toriel shook her head. “No, Frisk. I am not mad.”

 

“Why do you look mad?”

 

Toriel winced, a bit. She was trying to hide that, but Frisk picked up on it, anyway. Such a perceptive child… Aloud, she said, “Because I am angry with the people that hurt you. I could never be angry with you. I love you too much to ever think of it!” 

 

Confusion mingled with shock as more tears fell from Frisk’s eyes. “You… love me? B-but… But-!”

 

“But nothing.” Toriel wiped her child’s dampened eyes. “If you were trying to say I cannot love you, due to some perceived wrong-doing on your part, I can safely say you have done nothing to warrant such treatment.”

 

“But…”

 

“No ‘buts’, my child. I love you, and that is that.” She kissed Frisk in the middle of her forehead before pulling the girl back into her lap for another hug. She could feel Frisk finally calming as her embrace was returned. The little one within Frisk pulled the darkness off herself and then… it simply disappeared. Toriel could hear Papyrus gasp, knowing he just felt the same thing she just did. 

 

What did Frisk just do to herself? It was a question she wanted to ask, but with Frisk finally back to normal she didn’t want to upset the girl again. 

 

Frisk felt her mother’s curiosity, and worry, but said nothing. She just let herself soak in the warmth coming from Toriel’s soul. She could also feel Papyrus nearby, his relief warring with his own curiosity and something that felt like… longing, as he watched them. 

 

It was the same thing she felt whenever she saw other children with their mothers. A wistful feeling as she thought “is that how mothers are supposed to be?” Then the inevitable sadness as she reminded herself that she would never feel her mother’s love, and the ache left behind when she tried to push those thoughts aside. They were feelings she knew well, and they were all present inside Papyrus. 

 

During her stay in the castle she learned enough about the noble families to know of sad events surrounding his birth. Even though their circumstances were vastly different, the ache felt the same. Neither of them had known their mother’s love. They never would, and yet…

 

Frisk looked toward him, over Toriel’s shoulder, reaching for him with a hand. A new warmth built in her chest and she reached for her friend with it. Even if they didn’t have the love of the mothers that birthed them, no matter the reason, they still had plenty of other people that loved them just as much. And they had each other, best friends forever. She tried to send those feelings to him, but she didn’t know if she was doing it correctly…

 

Papyrus  _ must _ have felt it, because his eyes began to glow even brighter. He held her hand between both of his own, smiling his great big smile as tears pooled in his eye sockets. Pulse after pulse of purely platonic pacification began to flood her inner being, bringing tears to Frisk’s eyes as she smiled. She’d never seen his eyes glow before, and it was a relief to know she wasn’t the only one with orange eyes.

 

She could feel the darkness inside scratching at the sides of its box, but it was being held at bay, for now. She knew she would have to wrestle it again, one day, but she’d handle it then. Right now, she just wanted to soak up as much warmth as she could from her true mother and best friend. 

 

She felt something on the edge of her senses, something that “tasted” (if a feeling could have a taste) like metal. Maybe copper. It was in the direction Flowey sat in, so she sent a little warmth that way, too. She didn’t know if he’d feel anything, but she didn’t want her other friend feeling left out.

 

Toriel ended the magic lesson early. Frisk was too emotionally drained to argue. She was grateful for how her mother didn’t ask questions, but she knew she’d have to answer them, eventually. She just had to figure out  _ how _ to answer them, before then.

 

She didn’t know why “up” was bad. It was just something her human mother forced her to say whenever she was punished by being thrown in the tiny storage space under the stairs. Being stuck there with no light for hours upon hours, and going hungry as a draft blew in from somewhere to chill her were some of her earliest memories. It was why she hated the dark. It always made her feel like she’d done something wrong, even when she knew she didn’t. Oddly, the smell of fresh apples brought on the same feeling for equally mysterious reasons. But what was “up?”

 

Frisk felt like the answer was obvious, but she couldn’t place it. And trying to think about it made the darkness restless, so she stopped to focus on the present.

 

She walked over to Flowey to pick him up. He had time to give her a glance, his expression hard to read, before he hid his face from Toriel. Frisk mentally shrugged, filing it away for future discussion. 

 

The three of them walked back to camp, Toriel holding Frisk’s hand as the princess carried Flowey in one arm. Papyrus saluted as Toriel’s guard joined them, and together they went home.

 

All the while, Flowey struggled to keep his face hidden. Frisk had done something during her little love-fest with Toriel and Papyrus. He wanted to ask her what it was. He wanted to  _ demand _ that she tell him what she did, because he didn’t understand.

 

He felt something. Like a bell ringing inside him, he’d felt  _ something,  _ just for an instant. He didn’t know what, and he didn’t know how, but Flowey was going to find out.

 

How did Frisk keep  _ doing _ this when she was so obviously clueless about everything?!

* * *

 


	14. Pretty Little Boxes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans and Pristina have a little chat.

* * *

 

_“If monsters can live for long, long periods of time, I have to wonder how that affects their relationships. Do they stay the same? Do they change? I wonder how it affects their conversations about grown-up things like love and… and, um- *cough, muttering* other… stuff…”_ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 13: Pretty Little Boxes**

 

Sans stepped into his office. It’d been a few days since his prank barrage, so it was probably safe to see Pristina again. After all, her threat to roll him into a snow poff only applied to that day. She was bound to be calm enough by now to update him on how the case against Frisk’s uncle was proceeding.

 

Hopefully.

 

He found his cousin hard at work, as usual. She spared him a glance, taking in his usual lack of formal judge’s garb before refocusing on her papers. The fact that she didn’t get up to rattle his gourd was a good sign, although the coolness of her reception could be a bad one…

 

* _yup, the cold shoulder. definitely on thin ice_ , Sans thought to himself. Aloud, he said, “heya cuz!”

 

“Good afternoon, Your Honor.”

 

Sans mentally sighed. Pristina took after Granddad, always so serious about everything with a pickle tied to her coccyx over formalities and when they applied. It was why he liked pranking her so much, to get her to loosen up a little. Although this time he might’ve gone a _little_ bit too far by bringing Dante in on it.

He dragged one of the chairs in the small waiting area before her desk, straddling it so he could cross his arms on the back and rest his mandible there. Pristina continued to ignore him. Wanting to break the stalemate, Sans asked, “so… have you and dante settled on a date for your date?”

 

Still not looking at him, Pristina replied. “We had the date last night. ”

 

A smothered exclamation left Sans’ non-existent throat, bursting through his teeth. He stared at her for a full, silent minute before saying, “that’s, uh, a bit unexpected. eager much?”

 

She scoffed elegantly. “Hardly. I just wanted it over with and out of the way as soon as possible.”

 

Sans let some exasperation show. “y’know… dante’s not a bad guy. you’ve known him your whole life, just like paps. you know he doesn’t deserve that ‘horny drake’ crap the rumor mill hung around his neck.”

 

“That’s what makes it so _weird!_ ” Pristina threw her hands, and the pen she’d been holding, into the air. The suddenness of it and her outburst made Sans jerk back from her.

 

Slamming her metacarpi onto her desk, she leaned forward in an attempt to drive her glare through Sans’ thick skull. “Do you have ANY idea how awkward it is to date someone you’ve known since childhood? Someone whose tail you teethed on a baby?” (Sans snorted, grinning as he remembered that incident. He was ignored.) “He even gave me drakey-back rides and played silly games with me!”

 

She covered her face, eye sockets dark. “Damn it all, Sans, I still remember the first time you brought me and Papy to Snowdin. How Dante and Talia came with us and your grandparents, and it was just one big family trip. All the fun we had playing in the snow. How you and Dante teamed up for the most epic bedtime story ever…”

 

Pristina cherished those memories. Though her affection for him wasn’t quite as brotherly as it was with Sans and Papyrus, she still saw Dante as a member of her extended family. So imagine her shock when, after not being able to see him for years, they started running in the same circles again and his playful flirting became a little more serious.

 

Dante was always a perfect gentleman about it, respecting her boundaries and never pushing them, but the interest in his eyes was hard to ignore. And there was something he said on their date last night that was even _harder_ to ignore.

 

“I only really know the little girl you used to be,” he’d said. “We rarely saw each other once you started high school. Then you went to college and neither of us had the time to hang out. Even after you graduated, we only started seeing each other regularly once you became Sansy’s secretary! I’d like to know the woman you’ve become, if you’ll let me.”

 

Violet magic crept across her cheekbones at the memory, though her orbits remained dark. He was so earnest when he said that, and sincere. It was part of the charm that let him cut a swathe through so much of the adult population, monsters swooning left and right with just a wink or a smile. To have that charm focused on her, when she still remembered draping flower crowns on his horns and drawing on his face with crayons, left her feeling confused.

 

She didn’t hate him, despite how obnoxious the flirting could be and how awkward it made her feel. But it did bother her, how he could never seem to commit to any one person in particular. He was a master of dating… but she’d never seen him in a relationship lasting more than two months, and the list of people he’d dated was as long as his tail. Pretty much the only people on his “nope list” (his list of people he absolutely would NOT date) were his family members, Sans (whom he only wanted to fluster, not date), Papyrus, Roman, and anyone under the age of eighteen.

 

But everyone grew up, eventually. He’d never do anything before someone turned eighteen, but it didn’t stop him from platonically flirting (which only he seemed to be capable of pulling off.) Thinking of that reminded Pristina of something.

 

“The rumor mill is acting up again,” she said aloud, her pupils returning as she brought her hands down from her face.

 

Her seemingly sudden change of topic made Sans blink. “what about it? there’s always grist for the mill, even if they have to make it up.”

 

“This new rumor has to do with Dante and the princess.”

 

Sans rolled his eyes. “if it’s about the fact that he’s gonna wanna date her once she’s legal, there’s nothin’ new about that.”

 

“This latest rumor has something to do with that. If true, Her Highness’ birthday is very soon.”

 

“is it true?”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get a solid  number. Some rumors say it’s six months from now, others say next week, and all the rest fall somewhere in between. That’s a lot of room for error.”

 

“huh… i wonder what got it started.” Frisk didn’t seem like the type to tell people when her birthday was, unless she was asked.  And, if she decided to say something vague, that could account for the disparities between all the rumors.

 

“I don’t know where the rumor came from, for sure. You know how things spread like fire, down here, growing wilder with each telling. But Dante’s already trying to become her friend. In fact, he’s taken a day off just to ‘tour the surface.’ He’s probably trying to get her used to his company, platonically, before she turns eighteen.”

 

Sans grinned, his tone falling into one he used to use when she was small and using the nickname Dante came up with. “d’awww! is da widdle cinna-bun jeawous?” He tried to pinch Pristina’s blushing cheekbone, but was blocked by a finger hold.

 

“I am NOT jealous!” But even as she said that it almost felt like a lie. In her distraction her hold was reversed, Sans’ other hand darting in for a pinch before she could block it.

 

He winked, his grin growing wider. “it’s okay, tina. your secret’s safe with me.” He laughed when Pristina blushed harder.

 

“There you go, treating me like I still wear striped shirts! I swear you do that just to grate on my bones.”

 

He just laughed some more. Sans eased his grip on her cheekbone, but his hand moved to gently cup her skull, pulling her closer as he leaned forward. Their foreskulls clacked together and Pristina closed her eye sockets, the familiar warmth of the magic in Sans’ bones calming her. It was something he used to do when she and Papyrus were little, whenever they needed a little extra reassurance.

 

Part of her resented being treated like a baby bones… but the rest was grateful that _someone’s_ feelings hadn’t changed.

 

“it’s okay if you are. jealous, i mean,” Sans said softly. “sometimes feelings change when we least expect it, and not always the way we think they will. it’s just what happens when a monster stops aging and they go a long time without taking that big step of having kids. the ones that don’t are basically just a bunch of twenty-somethings still figuring life out, no matter how many decades old they are.”

 

“It’s just so weird…”

 

Sans let her go, letting Pristina sit back in her chair as he continued to lean on his. He looked her in the pupils and asked, “what’s so weird about it?”

 

Pristina waved her hands in vague gestures of frustration. “It’s just… Dante just started hitting on me, out of the dark! He never indicated he felt that way about me before then. It was such a shock…”

 

One brow ridge rose. “what d’you mean? he was givin’ you hints once you turned eighteen.”

 

“…what?”

 

Another grin pulled at Sans’ mouth. “don’t tell me you never noticed…”

 

Unease drew Pristina’s brow ridges downward. “Never noticed what?”

 

“oh my god…!” Sans tried to hold in his laughter, he really did. But _how_ could she not have noticed, after all these years? For someone so smart, having her be so dense at the same time was too freaking adorable! He started laughing, clutching his ribs and the back of his chair, trying to hold himself together.

 

“Sans, what didn’t I notice? Tell me!”

 

He wasn’t having much luck.

 

It took nearly ten minutes for Sans to calm down enough to talk again. Whenever it seemed like he’d get ahold of himself, one look at his cousin’s exasperated face would set him off again. Pristina leaving her seat to grab him by the front of his alchemy coat and shake him didn’t help. Eventually, he spilled his metaphorical guts.

 

“tina, he started throwin’ hints your way as soon as he could! he was trying to be subtle about it, ‘cause he was afraid you’d reject him and start hating him… guess he was _too_ subtle.”

 

“…those were hints? Of course I never noticed! I thought he was being his usual flirty self!”

 

“welp, now you know better. and if you think you’re the only one feelin’ a little awkward, you should’ve been there when he told your parents he wanted to date you.”

 

“Oh my god.” She could just imagine that meeting. Her mother had always been a battle axe of a manticore, having almost the power of a Boss Monster. Her father actually _was_ a Boss Monster, as most skeletons were, and not afraid to spar with any young whippersnapper he thought needed a spanking. Even now, firmly in their twilight years, they were still a formidable pair. Pristina almost felt sorry for Dante.

 

Almost.

 

“If he’s had the idea in his head for that long,” she said, “then why did our first date only just happen?”

 

Sans shrugged with hands and shoulders. “you know how he can be. he’s willing to be patient for something he really, _really_ wants. and ‘til then, it wasn’t like you two had a promise to be each other’s one-and-only, so of course he’d go on a bunch of other dates while he waited for you to come around!”

 

Something squeezed behind Pristina’s ribs. It wasn’t exactly hurt, but… “Then why start buttering up the princess? Why let such a long-term plan go to waste?”

 

Sans’ grin fell, a little. “it’s probably a fallback plan. he’s more than happy to stay just your friend, if that’s how you feel about him. for all his flirting he _does_ care about you, you know.”

 

Pristina muttered, “If it was _just_ flirting, I probably wouldn’t feel this way.”

 

Sans had the decency to blush. “oh, um… yeah, well… dante’s not as into ‘stress relief’ as the rumor mill says he is. and he almost never makes the first move when it comes to, uh, _that_. and he’d never force you to accept his advances! in fact-!”

 

“You can stop defending him,” Pristina sighed. “It’s just… the thought of him entertaining those kinds of thoughts about my person makes me… uncomfortable.”

 

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, tell him so! he’s not gonna hold it against you. like i said, he’s more than happy to stay just friends.”

 

Pristina was beginning to lose her patience with the entire conversation. “Well, if Lord Allergic-to-Commitment would actually _commit_ , maybe my feelings wouldn’t be so ambivalent! Maybe I could trust him not to wander off as soon as I stopped being ‘interesting!’”

 

Sans frowned, brow ridges drawing downward as he stood to face Pristina. She immediately regretted what she said. Despite being five inches taller than Sans, she felt like she was two feet tall as he started scolding her.

 

“you honestly think dante would _cheat_ on you? i get that he comes across as a shameless flirt, but he DOES have standards.”

 

“I know-!”

 

“you know as well as i do that when he’s in a relationship, no matter how short it is, he would _never_ do anything to hurt the one he’s with.”

 

“I know…”

 

“then what makes you think he’d do such a thing?!”

 

“I don’t! That’s not what I meant!” She held his hands, struggling to convey feelings she’d kept inside for too long to share easily. “I just meant… once he learned everything there is to know about me, he’ll let me down as gently as he could and go on his merry way. He’d leave me behind with all these wonderful memories of _us_ rattling around in my skull, and then… Then later, I’d see him making more happy memories with someone else and I… I’m not sure my soul is strong enough for that! It’d be proof he didn’t care as much as he said he did, or as much as I hoped he would. I would start thinking that, maybe, he never truly cared at all…” And all those precious childhood memories would become tainted by his “callousness,” if that was what it was.

 

She knew Dante better than that, yet her feelings insisted that’s what it would be. Her unfairness to someone that was supposedly so important to her only made her feel worse about everything. Her eye sockets burned as tears threatened to fall, pupils fading to nothing.

 

Sans squeezed the hands holding his. “you know he wouldn’t do that to you, right? still, i didn’t realize it was tearin’ you up that much.” He freed a hand from Pristina’s grasp, patting one of her shoulders and looking her in the orbits. “you should really talk it out with dante. clear the air, and lay everything on the table. he’ll understand.”

 

Pristina didn’t respond. He almost thought she didn’t hear him, but then she said, “It’s not like you to mix metaphors without adding in a pun. I guess you’re serious.” She closed her eye sockets and rubbed them with her free hand, sniffling just a little. When she opened them again her pupils were lit and she was smiling, even if it was a bit off-center. “Thank you, big brother.”

 

He winked, returning the smile. “don’t mention it, kiddo.” He gave his honorary little sister a hug, patting her on the back as she took a deep, cleansing breath. Pristina had always been prone to over-thinking things. Maybe once she and Dante had a nice, long talk she’d feel better about the whole situation, no matter what she decided to do.

 

They parted, Pristina smoothing out her clothing unnecessarily as they retook their seats. In a brisk, business-like tone she said, “So! Since you’re here of your own accord, without me having to float you in, I must assume you’re here for something. What would that be, Your Honor?”

 

As it turned out, the other judges were still deliberating amongst themselves. Not so much on what the human man had done, but on what sort of sentence his crimes merited.

 

Argo Kane would either spend the rest of his natural life in a time-out, or he’d face execution. The fact that he was the son of someone “important” to the humans was worming its way into their decision process. Sans didn’t really approve, but he couldn’t fault his colleagues for it, either. If a member of the nobility had done something like this they’d be dithering over that the same way, treasonous or not.

 

As far as Sans was concerned, the law was the law. Maybe there was _some_ room for interpretation, but _nobody_ was above it. Not him, not the king, and DEFINITELY not some deadbeat wanna-be-pimp.

 

* _heh… over my coarse, flaky dust you motherless bastard_. The guy might as well have “special case” stamped on his forehead! Even if he never hurt Frisk that way, he sure as hell hurt _somebody_. Maybe even multiple somebodies! His smile just _oozed_ with the knowledge that he’d gotten away with crap no decent person would ever think of doing, and enjoyed himself while he did. That no-good sack of-!

 

His thoughts must have shown on his face, despite trying to hide it, because Pristina was giving him The Look. She said, “Dante was right. You are _SO_ biased against that human.”

 

Sans shrugged, train of thought derailed. He couldn’t really deny it, but he wasn’t going to admit it, either. Not out loud. If he was going to be honest with himself, he was surprised by the intensity of his emotions on the matter.

 

Maybe it had to do with how many special cases he’d worked on, throughout his legal career? They had to be filtered through the lesser judges before being kicked up to the High Judge. Even before he started wearing the hood he _hated_ seeing how those people had been used and abused. Especially the kids. The saddest thing was that, every now and then, a victim would wind up becoming a special case themselves, later on in life…

 

He didn’t want that for Frisk. The fortunate thing was that her hatred seemed to be… _focused_ , for lack of a better word, on her uncle. She wasn’t painting with a broad brush and splashing everyone else with the same feeling. At least, not yet. Or maybe she just wasn’t painting _monsters_ with that brush.

 

He couldn’t get a good read on what she thought of humans as a whole. She she’d shared her opinion on an individual (the Justin Case guy she mentioned before), but all the rest…? Besides cautioning everyone about hunters and bandits on the mountain, and trying to talk about her family, she just didn’t talk about humans enough to show how she felt about them as a species.

 

That… might not be a good sign. Avoiding an issue was the first step in hiding something big. He would know.

 

“You’re really worried about her, aren’t you?” Thoughts once again derailed, he looked at Pristina with a raised brow ridge. “I know you’ve always been a big softie, but… don’t you think you’re taking this case a bit too personally? You’re the _High Judge_. You can’t afford to let your feelings run away from you, no matter what.”

 

“yeah, yeah, i know.”

 

“Sans, I’m _serious_.”

 

“i know you are. i am, too.” The timbre of his voice changed and, although he didn’t extinguish his pupils, he sat up straighter with a serious expression on his face. He sounded almost like his grandfather as he said, “Why do you think I’m sitting _here_ , instead of gracing Mister Kane with my presence and having a _discussion_ with him on how to properly treat the members of his family?”

 

Pristina winced. She suspected any “talk” Sans had with the prisoner would involve bullets as well as some sharp, pointed words. But before she could open her mouth to form another admonishment he was sighing, slumping as his voice went back to normal.

 

“i want this over soon, for frisk’s sake, but i know this has _gotta_ be done right. no matter how long it takes, we can’t screw this up. i know all that… but i still wish the others would hurry up and make up their minds.”

 

Pristina grinned. “You’re just cranky because all the work you’ve been doing lately is cutting into your napping time.”

 

“heh! yeah, that too.” He managed to smile at his cousin’s lighthearted jab, but she was right. For all the good that extra work had done…

 

He, Alphys and Talia hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out why Frisk was hurt the day her magic manifested. She hadn’t displayed those particular abilities since, instead using her memories to fuel different bullets. It was unheard of but, from what he learned after talking with Toriel, that was the only way to describe what Frisk was doing now. Her mother was worried about how many “memories” Frisk had to draw on, and what it cost her to keep them in the forefront of her mind. The biggest worry was what she might dredge up from the darkest recesses of her own psyche.

 

Papyrus told him about the emotional ride Frisk took him and Toriel on, once he got off-shift that day and came back to their shared tent. The both of them had been worried about Frisk, with good reason. The negative feelings they described shouldn’t be able to just up and disappear like that. Just like her intent, Frisk was somehow hiding it too well to detect. But the question was “how?”

 

She could be compartmentalizing… boxing stuff up and shoving it out of the way so she could function without breaking down into a sobbing mess all the time. But even if that’s what she was doing it shouldn’t make things _disappear_. The shadows of those feelings should always be there, lurking and waiting to pounce the minute Frisk was reminded of them. Like the way she was reminded the other day, or even during her Judgement, oh so long ago. But they were hardly present, at all, in her day-to-day life.

 

Was that just how different humans were from monsters? Or was there something else going on? He still couldn’t shake the feeling that someone else had been staring out of Frisk’s eyes for that brief moment…

 

That smile hadn’t been Frisk’s. As far as he was concerned, the kid that broke down in front of him, telling him how much she wanted to help people she barely knew despite being terrified of going to the surface, would never _enjoy_ hurting somebody like that.

 

But it raised the question of “who _did?_ ”

 

“….-ke a nap.”

 

Sans startled, trying and failing not to rattle. “huh? sorry, tina, didn’t quite catch that.”

 

He was met with a level look. “You’ve been staring at the wall behind me for the last several minutes, and said nothing for just as long. I can’t believe I’m saying this when there’s work to be done, but…” She sighed, her expression softening into one of worry. “I think you should go take a nap. You look like you need one.”

 

“…heh. i am pretty **bone** tired. and i’ve gotta **patell-ya** , that’s no **fib-ula**.”

 

His cousin rolled her eyes at him, having heard that series of puns before. She made shooing motions with her hands and he took the hint, standing and rubbing her on the skull (the skeleton equivalent of ruffling a child’s hair). He ducked into his office for a pickle and swig of brine before shortcutting to his bedroom in Snowdin.

 

Even as he fell onto the familiar comfort of his mattress, thoughts and theories swirled through his mind. They chased each other around and around, looping endlessly through all the other mysteries he’d been trying to solve on his own since the Core Incident.

 

He took a deep breath… and boxed them up. All of them. Every doubt, every dread, every fragile hope went into its very own box. His psyche was probably a bigger mess than his room. The thought made Sans chuckle to himself.

 

Frisk wasn’t the first person with issues to hide. Neither of them would be the last. But the biggest joke was that, sometimes, those boxes were the only way he could get a decent amount of shut-eye. At a guess, it was probably the same for the kid.

 

For all their differences, he and Frisk had a lot in common. Maybe, just maybe, by helping her out he would find a way to help himself, too? Or maybe not. Sans had no clue. Since he couldn’t answer his own question he boxed it up, along with all the rest.

* * *

 


	15. Pry-vate Matters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we learn a little bit more about monster fashion, and Papyrus paces.

* * *

 

_ Manuela’s departed friend never came up with a birthday for Frisk, nor how they/she would react to a party. Maybe this would be an opportunity to have a little fun? _

 

**Chapter 14: Pry-vate Matters**

 

“Yo, Princess! When’s your birthday?”

 

Squinting at the armless monster kid she’d made friends with on her journey through Waterfall, Frisk didn’t answer immediately. She didn’t want to answer at all, but couldn’t think of a way to do that without seeming rude to someone that didn’t deserve it. So she tried to buy herself some time.

 

“Why do you ask, Kidalgo?”

 

“Awww, c’mon Princess! I told ya you could call me Kid!” He looked like he wanted to pout, but was refraining. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a little impatient because this was IMPORTANT and he didn’t understand why his human friend didn’t feel the same way!

 

Frisk smiled benignly. “I’m sorry, Kid. Please forgive me, but your question just came out of the blue! I’m a little bit confused as to why you’d be asking that.”

 

“Oh… In that case, it’s okay! Guess it  _ was _ pretty random, ha ha!” After sharing a brief laugh, Kid went on. “Yo, so, you’re our princess, right? And you’re so cool for bringing down the barrier. And you’ve been so nice since you showed up, so everyone wants do something special for you! And Mom and Dad say a royal birthday party is what the grown-ups wanna do!”

 

Frisk brought a hand to her lips, fingertips just barely brushing them as she feigned a soft gasp. “Gracious! That sounds like a massive event! And it doesn’t sound very fair. I mean, it’s not like the entire kingdom can be invited to a party…” Even as she tried to act demure, her mind raced. Thoughts of big parties always made her uncomfortable. They brought to mind the birthday parties her human parents planned for her, just to maintain appearances.

 

They confused her, when she was smaller. To have her parents smiling at her, pretending they loved her, only to go right back to their normal, dismissive selves once all the guests left… Getting a glimpse of how things  _ could _ have been, but never would be… The tears she hid away when she finally realized that nobody cared it was all an act…

 

In short, Frisk didn’t like her birthday. 

 

She could feel her face settling into the neutral expression she’d spent her life mastering. Eyebrows, squint and lips formed straight lines, hiding her thoughts and feelings. She hadn’t been using it as much as she used to, but it was good to know she could still pull it off. 

 

Kid didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, anyway. “Yo, it’s not  _ that _ big a bash!” he said with a laugh. “Like, for King Mr. Dreemurr’s birthday? It’s kinda like a holiday for the people that aren’t invited to the actual party. There’s no school, and grown-ups don’t have to work. Unless it’s super-duper important. Like my auntie that works in the Core! She always says ‘ _ somebody _ has to keep an eye on it’, y’know?” He puffed up his chest with pride. “Lots of people in my family have been looking after it, since forever!”

 

“How fascinating! Please tell me more.” Sufficiently distracted by his pride in his family, Kid didn’t bring up her birthday again. Frisk was relieved, but her reprieve only lasted until the next day.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

The Earl of Sharpe paid her a surprise visit, on his day off. It was his first trip to the surface since the barrier fell, and he asked for a tour of the camp. That went smoothly enough (despite a mild discomfort on Frisk’s part for purely personal reasons), with her and Papyrus together showing him around. He seemed fascinated by the plants and trees, and would return the greetings of people he knew from the capital as they walked along. 

 

Once the tour was over they went to the tent where Grillby set up a temporary shop to feed everyone. It turned out he and the earl knew one another, though it’d been a long time since they’d seen each another. Earl Sharpe offered to treat her and Papyrus to a meal. Frisk accepted, but Papyrus declined because he was still on-duty. Frisk suspected he would’ve declined anyway, just because of the “grease.” As they waited for their food, the earl started asking questions. 

 

“ So, how has life among monsters been treating you? Are you enjoying yourself? ”

 

She had the feeling he was a rather nosy person, but meant well enough. Then again, it wasn’t like she knew him very well, if at all. So Frisk just smiled politely and said, “It’s been going very well. And I am, thank you.”

 

Dante Flat smiled, mainly with his eye sockets but also with an upward curve of his intimidating teeth. “ That’s good to hear! ” he said with a warm laugh, completely at odds with his dragon-like, beastly visage. It made Frisk ask her own questions about him, the answers to which she started sketching in her journal. 

 

His skull firmly represented the drake side of his bloodline despite lacking blood, on account of his being a skeleton. He had a grand total of six horns, three on each side of his head growing out of a sort of bony frill that was similar to but smaller than Alphys’, his face tapering to a narrow snout. Said horns spiraled straight out like an antelope’s, six inches at the longest and three at the shortest. His brow ridges were dotted with little spurs of bone, giving him a rather spiky countenance.

 

The talons on his hands, which had four fingers and an opposable thumb each, had felt dull when he held her hand the day they met, but he told her he could sharpen them with magic when it suited him. He was nice enough to sharpen her pencil with the aforementioned ability. He also had large, dragon-like feet, with equally impressive talons on the ends of long toes. When he walked he had a tendency to tip-toe, the bones of his heels just barely brushing the ground until he decided to stop. He walked mostly barefoot, although he wrapped something around the middle part (Frisk would later remember their name as being the “metatarsal” bones), covering them and a few inches of his lower leg while leaving his toes and heel exposed. Somewhat like spats, Frisk thought.

 

Then there was the tail. A line of neatly stacked vertebrae about two-thirds as long as he was tall, extremely flexible and prehensile. It poked out of the seat of his pants, tapering to almost nothing. It looked like it shouldn’t have have supported anything, much less the earl’s entire body weight (skeleton or not) whenever he leaned back in a chair, but he did so anyway. The rest of him was no different from Papyrus or Sans, although he was slightly bow-legged. He said that was due to his quadrupedal drake half clashing with his bipedal skeleton half, giving him a mixed knee structure. 

 

Their conversation went on, even once their food arrived. They began talking about clothing, of all things. Frisk only asked because Earl Sharpe wore was not unlike what Mr. Kane donned whenever he went to see his business associates, although she didn’t mention it aloud. It bothered her that such an unwitting reminder of her human father was the reason she felt uncomfortable around the skeletal drake. He’d done  _ nothing _ to warrant such feelings. If anything, he’d been more of a gentleman than the humans her parents surrounded themselves with!

 

He seemed surprised by her little fashion tidbit, since the design had been based on something that washed up in Waterfall. It was considered the “hip” thing among monsters to wear clothing that came from the surface. While wearing something directly from the garbage dump was merely okay, a well-to-do individual wore monster-made clothing based on what was found. That explained why so many monsters wore human-like clothing, and why it all looked more-or-less like what Frisk had grown up seeing. 

 

Earl Sharpe, who insisted on being called Dante, even showed her an old picture of himself and Sans in their younger days, showing her how differently they used to dress. In the picture they both wore “t-shirts” with humorous phrases printed in the stripes running across their chests. The earl (although the picture was from before he was the earl) wore dark blue jeans while Sans wore loose, black shorts with white, vertical stripes on each leg. He also wore a hooded blue coat that sagged on his shoulders and looked rather comfy. 

 

What struck Frisk the most was how  _ young _ they both looked, especially Sans. Lord Dante said the picture was taken just before Papyrus was born, making them both about fifteen years old at the time. Not much older than she was now… Warm butterflies danced in her chest again, and Frisk couldn’t help but stare at the first monster she met after leaving the Ruins. She tried to compare the smile beaming up at her from the photograph to the somewhat more restrained one she’d come to know.

 

It wasn’t that Sans couldn’t smile like that, anymore, but Frisk did notice a difference between his grins during certain times. How rigid and mask-like it could become. The slight fading of his pupils…

 

* _ It’s his eyes _ , she thought to herself. * _ If they’re really the window to the soul, how does it affect them when you’ve seen as much as he has? When you’ve lived through something as terrible as the Core Incident, and experienced so much loss? _

 

Another thought occurred to her. * _ …what does he see in  _ my _ eyes? _

 

Before she could ponder on it Lord Dante cleared his throat softly, asking if he could have his photo back. He had a sly grin on his face as she handed it over, and a teasing glint in his eyes. “ Saw something you liked, did you? ” he asked.

 

Frisk smiled and said, “I did, actually. That cake you two were standing in front of looked delicious! What was the occasion?”

 

Lord Dante blinked at her, brow ridges high on his skull. If he’d been playfully hinting that she might find either him or Sans attractive, Frisk was determined to disappoint him. She boxed up the butterflies and hoped she her deflection wasn’t too obvious.

 

He chuckled, tucking his photo in a jacket pocket as he said, “ Yes, actually. It was our birthday. Mine and my sister’s, that is. Which reminds me of a little something I heard, on my way up here… ”

 

He paused for dramatic effect, and Frisk hoped the cold sweat she felt gathering on her palms wasn’t too obvious. Lord Dante looked like he was expecting her to ask what it was, and she couldn’t think of any polite way to deflect him! She smiled, squinting for her life, as she asked, “What might that be, My Lord?”    

 

“ People have been saying they want to throw a royal birthday party for our lovely little princess. Of course, nobody can agree on when your birthday is…? ” 

 

“I’m not surprised. I haven’t told anyone when it is, so anything you’ve heard is pure speculation.”

 

Lord Dante closed his eye sockets and sighed. “ Ah, the good old rumor mill. It never gets anything right. ” He opened one orbit, tilting his head to one side. “ So…? ”

 

“So… what, My Lord?” 

 

They stared one another down, pleasant smiles creasing both their faces. Lord Dante’s was growing more and more amused as Frisk started sweating again. As long as he didn’t ask the actual question she wasn’t going to say anything, but he just sat there,  _ smiling…! _

 

“ PRINCESS! I BELIEVE IT IS TIME TO LEAVE! ”

 

She and Lord Dante jumped a bit at Papyrus’ interruption of their stare-down. But even as Frisk sent fervently grateful thoughts in his direction, Dante raised a brow ridge at him. He asked, “ Oh? What’s the rush? ”

 

Papyrus’ visor hid his face, but not the discomfort in his eye sockets. “ UM… IT IS TIME… FOR HER HIGHNESS TO… IT’S TIME FOR HER MAGIC LESSON! THAT’S IT! ”

 

Lord Dante clearly wasn’t buying it. His brow ridge rose even higher and Frisk decided to run with her friend’s little white lie. She turned to him and said, “Thank you, Papyrus! I lost track of the time. We’d better go see Mother, before we’re too late.” As she turned back to the earl she said, “My Lord, this was a lovely afternoon. Thank you for the meal, and I hope you enjoyed your trip to the surface!” She bowed the way she’d been taught to at the castle, then beat a calm-but-hasty retreat with Papyrus on her heels.

 

Behind them, Lord Dante called out “ spoilsports! ”, before howling with laughter. 

 

Safely hiding the tent she shared with Toriel, Frisk sighed with relief. It was still a while before her lesson, but she could use the time to pull herself together. She smiled up at her friend in shining armor and said, “Thank you for bailing me out of there, Papyrus. I know you don’t like lying, that way…”

 

He struck his dramatic pose, scarf tails flapping somehow as he said, “ THINK NOTHING OF IT, YOUR HIGHNESS! I, THE GREAT ROYAL GUARD PAPYRUS, SWORE TO PROTECT YOU FROM EVERY THREAT! THAT INCLUDES EMOTIONAL DISTRESS! NYEH HEH HEH! ” 

 

Suddenly his expression sobered, his scarf falling to settle against his back. When Papyrus spoke again it wasn’t at his normal volume, trying to respect his friend’s privacy on a matter she may not want shouted to the heavens. “ Your Highness… Human Frisk, do you not enjoy your birthday? ”

 

Frisk didn’t really want to answer him… but then she remembered the difficult memories he’d shared with her during their “date,” down in Snowdin. If anyone would understand how she felt, it would be him, and everyone was prying into her business, anyway! There might as well be ONE person she could share this with voluntarily… 

 

“No. I don’t like it at all.” 

 

Papyrus lifted his visor. His expression was gentle as he said, “ Would you like to confide in me? I assure you that I am all ears! I also lack lips, so you don’t need to worry about them being loose! ” 

 

His words made Frisk chuckle a bit, reminding her of his brother, and the words Sans shared when he visited her in the hospital. Maybe… it was time to talk it out. This one subject, at least, no matter how hard it was to talk about her old home life. She came to a decision and nodded to Papyrus, inviting him to sit in a chair on one side of the tiny table scrunched into the tent. She took the other seat, steeling herself. After a deep breath, she was as ready as she was ever going to be.

 

“I’ve only ever known my birthday to be a farce. Of course, I didn’t know what a farce was when I was small, so I enjoyed the attention everyone gave me. The hugs and smiles from my parents, the well-wishes of the guests, the toys and pretty clothes I received as gifts… But then everything went right back to normal, afterward. I would go back to being the unwanted child, the only Kane that wasn’t a true part of the family.”

 

She sighed. “All that joy. All that happiness. All of it was fake, a grand little play I had no choice but to star in. I eventually learned my part but… it was hard. It was hard to smile after I realized nobody in that house ever loved me. But I learned to do so, anyway.” She smiled now, though she didn’t feel like doing so, forcing the corners of her mouth upwards and pasting a politely attentive expression on her face. Her friend seemed appalled, and her expression fell as she looked down at the hands wringing themselves in her lap. 

 

Papyrus took advantage of her pause to ask, “ What do you mean when you say weren’t a part of the family? ”

 

Her hands wrung themselves even harder. A voice that sounded like her human father, thick with contempt, echoed in the back of her mind. She wasn’t “his” daughter, and he only deigned to raise her because she was too “visible” to easily discard. And he had his reputation as a “philanthropist” to consider, orphanages being one of the many places he donated his “charity” to. Although she wasn’t his daughter by blood all he had to do was smile and spew a lie, saying he cared about all children, even if they weren’t his. People believed him, and when Frisk tried to contradict the lie she was punished by being thrown into the closet under the stairs by her own mother.

 

That woman took her turn to screech in the back of her mind. Frisk had been nothing but a doll, to her. Dolls sat on the shelf, never speaking. They wore the pretty clothes their owners chose for them. They weren’t supposed to think for themselves, or talk about the feelings that stabbed them in the heart every day. They weren’t supposed to feel at all. Nobody cared what happened behind their painted-on smile. No matter how many tears fell from their glass eyes, nobody would come to save them from their pain. Nobody came…

 

Her body was suddenly constricted! Frisk gasped and struggled before she realized it was Papyrus hugging her. He’d gotten out of his seat without her noticing, and was kneeling beside her as he wrapped his arms around her. He’d taken his helmet off, and his cheekbone dug into her ear, just a bit. His armor made the hug a little awkward, but the warmth from his soul made up for it. Tears leaked from her eyes before she could stop them and she tried to box everything up, but Papyrus stopped her.

 

“ It’s alright, ” he said. “ You don’t have to talk about it. But at least let yourself cry. ” Frisk shook her head, making Papyrus hug her tighter. “ It’s alright! Bawl your eyes out, scream into my scarf if you need to! You’ll be surprised at how much better you’ll feel afterward. ” He sighed, a long-suffering sound. “ Honestly, you and my brother are exactly the same. Keeping things to yourselves until it becomes too much to bear, and hoping you’re not worrying anybody until then. ”

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

“ You don’t need to apologize for it, just… Just let me be here for you, like the great friend I am. ”

 

“… the greatest friend.”

 

“ And don’t you forget it! NYEH HEH HEH! ” Frisk winced a little at the volume of his laugh right in her ear. He apologized, patting her on the back of the head as he did.

 

Frisk couldn’t help but smile. She wriggled her arms out of his hold so she could hug her friend back, wrapping them around his neck. The scent of bones and armor polish was strong and, although she didn’t cry or scream as Papyrus suggested, she couldn’t deny talking had helped, just a little. He eventually let her go, and had a suggestion when he did.

 

He very reasonably pointed out that she no longer lived with humans that didn’t appreciate how cool she was. She should take this chance to make happier memories for her birthday, with all the monsters that loved her the best! Every birthday from now on would be a celebration of true friendship and family! It didn’t  _ always  _ have to be about how crummy those never-to-be-mentioned-henceforth humans made her feel! 

 

Frisk knew had a point, but she still wasn’t quite ready for the sort of fuss everyone seemed to think she “deserved.” Thankfully, she had plenty of time before her next birthday to decide what she was going to do.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans awoke to the sound of pacing in the tent he shared with Papyrus. The footsteps sounded like his brother’s, with the clanking of his armor added in for flavor. Still laying on his cot, Sans barely opened one eye socket to find that his brother was, indeed, pacing a hole into the ground that served as their floor, at the moment. He’d removed his helmet, mainly because the roof was so low Papyrus had to stoop to keep his skull from hitting it, even in his bare tarsi. The helmet would’ve caught on something and brought the whole place down. The lack of ironmongery let Sans see his brother’s expression, one of the more complicated ones that managed to combine worry, frustration, excitement and…

 

* _ huh, that’s rare _ , Sans thought to himself. * _ he’s actually mad.  _ really _ mad. i don’t think i pranked him today, so why…? _

 

He made a big show of stretching and yawning, banking on the hope that Papyrus’ thoughts distracted him so thoroughly he didn’t notice Sans’ scrutiny. As he sat up and scratched his ribs he said, “ heya, bro! just get back from your shift, or somethin’? ”

 

“ Hello, Brother. Yes, I just got back a few minutes ago. ” 

 

He didn’t stop pacing. The tent was so small it took Papyrus two long strides to go from the flap of the “door” to the back wall. Which he did, over and over. Step, step, turn. Step, step, turn. Step, step…

 

Sans was starting to get dizzy watching him. And maybe a little worried. “ uh… bro? did something happen with frisk, again? ”

 

“ Yes! No! I mean, something did happen, but Frisk confided in me! And I’m not sure she’d want me telling you about it! She didn’t say I couldn’t, but she didn’t say I could, either! ”

 

“okay… she didn’t have another ‘bad time’, did she?”

 

“ Almost! But I, the Great Royal Guard Papyrus, successfully thwarted her waking bad dream! Nyeh heheh heh! ” He stopped pacing long enough to strike his signature pose, his smile sparkling heroically.

 

“ heh, that’s great, bro! you’re a real knight in shining armor. ”

 

“ I know! I even-! ” Papyrus made the mistake of looking down at his brother. Sans was glowing his eye so he could see in the semi-dark tent, reflecting it off his armor. He was checking himself in its polished surface and making silly faces in it before he noticed Papyrus watching. Caught, Sans smiled as though he was innocence incarnate. Papyrus knew better, of course, and gave his brother The Look of Fraternal Disapproval. It bounced off of The Perpetual Grin as though it never happened.  

 

“ Sans! Would you please take this seriously! ”

 

“ okay. so are you gonna tell me what happened, or should i go ask her myself? ”

 

“ I’m… not sure! ”

 

“ aww, c’mon paps. you know you need  **tibia** honest with me. ” Papyrus clamped his jaw shut, trying not to explode. It was neither to time, nor the place for over-used jokes! He already had to apologize to their tent neighbors about his volume, but Sans didn’t relent. “ you know i’ll just  **rib** ya ‘til you talk. it wouldn’t kill either of you to  **shiitake** to me. ”

 

Papyrus threw his hands in the air, lifting the tent a little. “ _OH MY_ _GOD!_ IF YOU’RE GOING TO PUN INCESSANTLY, AT LEAST STICK TO ONE THEME! EITHER BONE PUNS OR FUNGUS PUNS! DON’T _MIX_ THEM!! YOU HAVE NO STANDARDS AT ALL! ” 

 

A voice from outside their tent shouted, “ _ HEY! _ Volume!”

 

“ SORRY! I mean, I’m sorry! ” Papyrus leveled The Glare of Fraternal Frustration upon his brother, who at least had the decency to look abashed.

 

“ sorry bro! you, uh, wanna take this conversation somewhere else? ” 

 

Papyrus nodded with an aggravated sigh. “ Yes. That may be for the best. ”

 

“ you wanna go to the usual spot? i know a shortcut. ”

 

“ Yes, yes, I know! You and your lazyboned shortcuts. ” Although Papyrus didn’t approve of the way Sans used them to slack off, he couldn’t deny their usefulness. Especially after Frisk’s uncle nearly succeeded in dusting him! Even with his friend’s cool healing magic, the trip to the hospital by other means would have been… unpleasant. So he was grateful Sans had the ability, he just wished he used them for less lazy purposes! 

 

After Sans slid his boots on (without tying them, because he never did) he lead the way out of the tent, Papyrus close on his calcanei. They stepped onto a path they knew well, back down in the Snowy Forest. Papyrus couldn’t help but look behind himself, half-expecting the tent to still be there, but it wasn’t. 

 

He didn’t really know why Sans went back to being mysterious about his shortcuts, but his brother did many things he didn’t understand. Frequenting Grillby’s, for example, despite the copious amounts of grease. Or how his inventory seemed to be bottomless. He could swear Sans was shortcutting things into his hands while he made a show of digging through his pockets! But since he didn’t know how the shortcuts worked, and Sans became cagey whenever he asked, he couldn’t be sure…

 

As Papyrus pondered the perplexities of his peculiar brother, they walked to an old clearing with plenty of space. It was probably where most of the building materials for Snowdin came from, when it was founded, but went out of use as trees closer to town grew to maturity. Now it was just a nice, empty place in the middle of the woods wonderful for pacing, magic training… and venting to the ceiling. Although Frisk didn’t say he could share what she’d shared, this injustice simply could  _ not _ be allowed to stand! The royal guard inhaled deeply, letting the cold, crisp air fill his soul just before letting his outrage be known.

 

“ _ OH! MY!! GOD!!!  _ WOULD YOU BELIEVE FRISK HATES HER BIRTHDAY!? BECAUSE OF HOW THE HUMANS TREATED HER!???! LIKE SHE WASN’T EVEN PART OF THEIR FAMILY!? AND NOW SHE’S AFRAID WE’LL DO THE SAME!?! OR MAYBE NOT THAT!! I DON’T REALLY KNOW WHAT SHE’S AFRAID OF! BECAUSE SHE DIDN’T SAY! BUT CHILDREN HER AGE SHOULD NOT BE CONCERNED WITH SUCH THINGS! THE MONSTER’S MANUAL TO RAISING CHILDREN CLEARLY STATES-! ”

 

Sans took a seat on a nearby stump, watching his brother pace ‘round and ‘round. Papyrus gesticulated wildly as he made his opinion known, in no uncertain terms, on how children were to be treated throughout their lives. It didn’t sound like Frisk shared very much with him, but the fact she shared  _ anything _ about her place in her former family was a step in the right direction. Sans tuned his brother in and out, half-listening until…

 

“ -I MEAN, WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?! WHY MAKE HER FEEL UNWANTED?! I MEAN, OUR MOTHER PASSED AWAY WHEN I WAS BORN! ONE WOULD BE TECHNICALLY CORRECT TO SAY I DUSTED HER! ”

 

Sans frowned, interrupting his brother. “ paps, we’ve been over this. you didn’t do anything to mom. what happened to her wasn’t your fault. ”

 

“ I KNOW THAT, NOW! THAT’S WHY I SAID ‘TECHNICALLY’! AND BECAUSE IT IS A TECHNICALITY, NOBODY MADE ME FEEL UNWANTED! I WAS NEVER FORCED TO SMILE AND PRETEND THAT I WAS NEVER IN PAIN! WHAT IN THE WORLD COULD FRISK HAVE DONE TO WARRANT SUCH PUNISHMENT!? ” 

 

“ beats me. sounds cruel and unusual, anyway. ”

 

“ EXACTLY! I SIMPLY DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW ANYONE CAN TREAT SOMEONE ELSE SO POORLY! AS THOUGH THEY NEVER MATTERED, AT ALL! ” His energy flagged, and he sighed. “ SHE GAVE ME ONE OF THE FAKEST SMILES I’VE EVER SEEN, AND I LIVE WITH  _ YOU! _ THAT’S A VERY HIGH STANDARD FOR FAKE SMILING! ”

 

Sans winced on the inside, even as he smiled and said, “ hey! i resemble that remark. ”

 

“ THAT’S WHY I MADE THE COMPARISON! BUT I KNOW YOU HAVE YOUR REASONS, WHICH IS WHY I TRY NOT TO PRY! EVEN IF DOING SO WOULD BE FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! ” 

 

“ you’re the coolest, bro. ”

 

“ I KNOW I AM! BUT I BELIEVE WE HAVE STRAYED FROM THE TOPIC AT HAND, WHICH IS FRISK! ” Papyrus crossed his arms and closed his orbits to think. “ I TOLD HER SHE COULD MAKE BETTER BIRTHDAY MEMORIES WITH EVERYONE, BUT SHE SAID SHE NEEDED SOME TIME TO THINK ABOUT IT. SHE SOUNDED LIKE SHE COULD USE SOME CONVINCING, BUT HOW TO GO ABOUT IT? ”

 

The brothers spent a while brainstorming, which consisted mostly of Sans making jokes and Papyrus telling him, in various ways, to grow up and be serious. Eventually, a plan was pulled from the mess of their fraternal bonding.

 

Frisk wasn’t going to stand a chance. She was going to have the best birthday ever, or their names weren’t Papyrus and Sans Gaster!

* * *

 


	16. Operation Birthday (Phase 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Plan is put into action...

* * *

 

_ Manuela remembered how she felt when her best friend told her she didn’t like her birthday. It made her determined to give Francine the best darned birthday ever… _

 

**Chapter 15: Operation Birthday (Phase 1)**

 

Frisk stared at the object in her hands, a perplexed slant to her squint as she contemplated its meaning, and how it became present in her life. 

 

After another magic lesson from Toriel, Frisk returned to the tent to find a box sitting on her sleeping bag. Sorrel and Rochester (the royal guards that became a couple after Fighting her and insisted on taking shifts together) immediately and thoroughly inspected the mystery box. It was soon deemed harmless, but they were also confused by it. 

 

It was just an empty, wooden box measuring about a foot per side, with a slot in the lid. The word “WISH” was written on the outside in handwriting she didn’t recognize. She turned it over and over in her hands, wondering if there was a secret button, a false bottom or some such trickery, but she was unable to find one. There was no clue as to whom the box might be from, but the timing of it’s appearance suggested a pair of brothers to be the most likely source.

 

She’d left Flowey outside before her lesson, behind the tent, so he wouldn’t have seen anyone coming or going. Since he didn’t want to be seen talking, they talked quietly through the tent wall. When she asked if he’d heard anyone, he said he heard nothing. She described the box and he said it sounded vaguely familiar, but after becoming Flowey he’d noticed that not all of his memories as Asriel had made the transition. Particularly, the ones from before he met his best friend were the haziest (he said their name, but it was still being converted into Frisk’s, in her mind). 

 

Frisk decided to track down the Gaster brothers -one of them, at least- and ask them if they had anything to do with the box. She asked Flowey if he wanted to come while she watered him but he declined, not wanting to get closer to Sans than necessary. Sorrel and Rochester followed her, holding hands as they watched her back.

 

None of her neighbors had seen anyone entering or exiting the royal tent while she and Toriel were gone, but if Sans was behind this mystery that wouldn’t mean anything. He could just take a shortcut inside and leave without ever being seen or heard (which was probably how he managed to sneak the whoopee cushions into her sleeping bag and Mother’s teapot a while back). But why would that lazybones do this? 

 

Did Papyrus tell him what she’d said about her family? She wasn’t mad, since she never expressly told him to keep his teeth shut on the matter. But even so, why would Sans do anything like this? Had Papyrus been  _ that _ upset with what she told him? Or was it that he roped his brother into helping with some grand scheme and Sans was in a good enough mood to humor him? 

 

Even if that was the case it was still sweet of them. It almost made her wish she’d had an older sibling looking out for her, in the past. Of course, that just meant the both of them might have suffered. Frisk’s face went neutral as an even darker thought crossed her mind. Her hypothetical sibling could have been one more person to view her with contempt, taking their cue from their parents. So perhaps things were better off with her being an only child. She put her thoughts away when she arrived at the brothers’ shared tent. 

 

She knocked twice on the improvised doorway made of planks, thinking Sans might appreciate a joke. But nobody answered, and peeking through the gap in the front flap showed that nobody was home. Except for Rockwell the pet rock.

 

Frisk went to Grillby’s. She never expected to find Papyrus within, but was disappointed when Sans was nowhere to be found. A number of Mr. Grillby’s Snowdin regulars, as well as some new faces greeted her as she went to the back to ask the fire monster if he’d seen Sans. After a shake of the head and some translation from Ms. Red (the bird lady), it turned out Sans had yet to come by today. Frisk thanked them for their time, but as she turned to leave Ms. Red stopped her.

 

“Grillby’s wondering what you’ve got there, Princess,” she said. Mentally shrugging to herself, Frisk showed them both the box, and it’s emptiness. After adjusting his spectacles Mr. Grillby’s “hair” flared a little bit, his body burning a tiny bit brighter. The tent got a little bit warmer as he gasped. He brought himself back under control, the soft crackling and popping of his speech a little more pronounced than normal. When Ms. Red translated, she seemed very pleased.

 

“History buff Grillbz says that’s a wishing box! It’s a very old monster tradition, from before we were sealed underground. What you do is leave it outside your house during a special occasion. People will come by to leave you and your family little notes wishing you happy birthday, merry Gyftmas, stuff like that. But nobody uses them nowadays.”

 

Frisk tilted her head. “Why is that?”

 

Mr. Grillby shrugged. Ms. Red didn’t feel a need to translate.

 

One of the restaurant patrons piped up. “So why do you have one, Princess? What’s the special occasion?”

 

“Oh, there’s nothing special going on right now,” Frisk said with a smile toward them. “I just found this on my sleeping bag. I’m starting to feel like I’m being  **rib** bed by… a certain someone.” That got a round of laughs, everyone present knowing exactly who she was talking about. Then the clamoring started.

 

“Hey, so when’s your birthday? I’ve been hearing a lot about someone wanting to throw you a party.”

 

“I’ve heard that, too! Isn’t it real soon?”

 

“Naaah, I heard it’s months from now.”

 

“Who cares when it is? It’s gonna be awesome whenever it happens!”

 

“C’mon, you can tell us!”

 

“Yeah!”

 

The patrons began to crowd Frisk, all the attention making her a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone.

 

“Okay, people! Give Her Highness a little space, y’know? You’re bumming her out!”

 

“……….back up.”

 

The efforts of the big, burly guards kept people from getting too rowdy. Some even smiled sheepishly and apologized as they gave Frisk some space. Breathing a mental sigh of relief she kept smiling, not wanting to hurt everyone’s feelings. 

 

“There’s no need to get so excited over little old me,” she said demurely. “I don’t find turning another year older to be worth fussing over. But I  _ would _ like to find whoever left this ‘wishing box’ in my tent. If you would all please excuse me?”

 

Ms. Red spoke up. “Princess? Grillby says he has something for you.” 

 

When she turned back to the elemental monster he was holding a folded napkin between flaming fingers, somehow not setting it alight. He gestured to the wishing box, and she held it up so he could stuff the napkin through the slot. He spoke some more and, while Frisk thought she understood snatches of it, she was grateful for Ms. Red’s translation. 

 

“He says you’re not supposed to look at what’s in the box until the day after your special occasion. It’s so the wish magic has time to build up and take hold so it lasts for a whole year.”

 

Frisk laughed, hugging the box a little. “Your note will have a while to wait, then. But… thank you, Mr. Grillby. This conversation has been quite…  _ enlightening _ .” 

 

A sound left the fire monster that resembled a chuckle as he shook his head. He gave Frisk’s head a pat, just like he did before her journey through Waterfall. Ms. Red said, “Grillbz says ‘Sans is a terrible influence on you.’”

 

Frisk smiled innocently and said, “Oh, no. My mother taught me that one.” That got another laugh out of everyone, even her guards.

 

As she tried to leave it turned out the restaurant patrons also had napkin notes to give  her. Frisk collected them patiently, a little amazed that they  _ all _ wanted to wish her well. Or maybe it was just the novelty of it that made them all want to participate. She wondered as she bid everyone farewell with a smile. 

 

Since searching the two most likely places to find at least one Gaster proved to be a bust, Frisk changed tactics. She pulled out her c-phone, sending a text to Undyne asking if she’d seen Papyrus, and one to Alphys asking if she’d seen Sans. She chatted with Sorrel and Rochester while waiting for their replies, noting how happy the couple was as they held hands again. She even had time to put her box down and make a cute sketch them before Undyne answered her query.

 

She said she hadn’t seen Papyrus. But she also said he liked to go on an afternoon jog after his shift, so he’d be home, eventually. She asked why Frisk was asking, and how important it was so she could go look for him if she had to. 

 

Frisk remembered her camera and took a “selfie” while holding the box in front of her. She posted it to the Undernet page Alphys made for her, expressing confusion on its mysterious appearance, and letting Undyne know it wasn’t terribly urgent. Frisk knew she, Alphys, and Papyrus were all “following” her, along with a small number of people she didn’t know personally. She tried not to let the account become general knowledge, and feared the entire kingdom would follow her if given half a chance. She didn’t think she could handle that much scrutiny of every post she made.

 

After growing up around technology which was (at its best) equivalent to the late nineteenth century, she’d forgotten she could simply check Papyrus’ social media page for any updates. She wasn’t quite used to thinking like a monster when it came to connecting via c-phone. To her it seemed terribly invasive to have one’s life on constant display, but people could only see what you posted. If you wanted something to remain private, all you had to do was keep it to yourself. 

 

Which proved to be what Papyrus was doing, after checking his page. His last post was from the day before yesterday, which was odd for the normally active skeleton. Then again, after becoming her guard the number of posts he made per day seemed to dwindle. Some of them were still humorously augmented selfies, but recently more of them were things Papyrus found interesting about the surface. Clouds shaped like a plate of spaghetti, a fuzzy caterpillar crawling along a branch, a close-up of morning dew on the grass, tree leaves bigger than his hand, things such as that. He liked to post at least one picture a day…

 

She checked log of the “troll” that liked to bother Papyrus. After just a little investigation she concluded that it was Sans pestering him, and others. He was less active, however, and it seemed like the account existed only so he could bug people (who seemed to be members of his family) on their accounts, mainly through bad puns in a “goofy font” that somehow looked like his handwriting. She couldn’t tell who was who, but it seemed like he had a small pool of “favored” relatives. 

 

Frisk felt sorry for them.

 

Undyne responded to her picture by “liking” it, as did a few of her unknown followers, but nobody offered any insight or seemed to know what she was holding. Alphys wasn’t being very active on her account, either, but she understandably had her claws full with trying to bring monster technology to the surface. The fact that everyone could use their c-phones aboveground was due to all the hard work she’d put in since the barrier came down.

 

Being fired from her position as Royal Alchemist hadn’t stopped Alphys from trying to contribute to the kingdom’s move to the surface. She figured out how to get the c-phone signals to work aboveground, how to keep the power crystals in them charging without having to return underground, and was even working on harnessing a new energy source so they didn’t have to keep relying on the Core; the sun. She was using special crystals that absorbed sunlight and working on converting it into usable energy. This was all on top of her helping to figure out what happened to Frisk the day she first used magic. 

 

The princess had asked Alphys, in a private message sent soon after the incident, if she was stretching herself too thin and overworking. The alchemist said not to worry, and that she’d be fine. Since she was no longer looking after the amalgamates she had a remarkable amount of spare time on her claws (although it  _ was _ cutting into her “human research” time.) Working on so many projects kept her mind off her past mistakes, and she hoped her efforts would lead to some good for monsterkind in the long run. Frisk still worried about her, but could think of nothing to say that would get Alphys to rest, a little.

 

With no other leads she went back to the Gaster brothers’ tent. With still no skeletons to be found in the proverbial closet, Frisk was forced to use her last resorts. She tried calling the brothers, but she only received the prerecorded voice of Mettaton for both of them.

 

_ “So sorry, darling, but this person has either turned off their c-phone, or is no longer in an area with service. After my beautiful voice ends at the tone, you may leave a message. Although I don’t know why you would, since I’m sure they aren’t as fabulous as I am. I’m also sure they can’t tell you all about the latest MTT-brand produ-” BEEEP. _

 

She left messages saying she was looking for them, and asking if they knew anything about the wishing box she found. It was all she could do, if they were purposefully ignoring her. She wondered if this was all some elaborate prank, but she wouldn’t know for sure until the punchline came for her.

 

Frisk was out of options. She wasn’t allowed to wander around the woods, even with bodyguards, so she couldn’t look for them. She didn’t want to bother her father, because he was undoubtedly busy running the kingdom. Her mother was busy as well, holding her refresher class on surface foraging safety. Lord Dante gave her his number as she showed him around camp saying that, since he often let Sans sleep in his office, she could call him if she ever needed their friend when he wasn’t answering his c-phone. 

 

However, calling the half-drake lawyer wasn’t an option. She simply didn’t know him well enough to be comfortable bothering him out-of-the-blue, not unless it was a true emergency and she  _ really _ needed Sans. Asking about a box nobody used anymore was hardly an emergency, so she would just have to be patient and hope Alphys got back to her, or one of the brothers themselves.

 

She went back to her tent and left the box inside. She then decided to volunteer for chores around camp, just to give herself something to keep her mind off of it.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

If she’d only known, Frisk would have found her friends at the ancient tree. Sans was lounging in his favorite section of roots while Papyrus paced a short distance away, looking at his c-phone as he did.

 

“ IT WOULD SEEM FRISK HAS DISCOVERED THE PURPOSE OF THE WISHING BOX! ”

 

“ yup. ”

 

“ AND SHE HAS BEEN TRYING TO CONTACT US! ”

 

“ yup. ”

 

“ HOWEVER, WE BOTH AGREED WE WOULDN’T TELL HER ANYTHING ABOUT OUR INVOLVEMENT IN IT’S SUDDEN APPEARANCE! NOT UNTIL SHE TELLS SOMEONE WHEN HER BIRTHDAY IS! ”

 

“ pretty much, bro. ” Sans’ brother stopped his pacing and glared at him, making him look toward Papyrus with his left eye closed as he grinned. “ what’s the matter, paps? not getting cold feet, are ya? ”

 

“ OF COURSE NOT! AS SKELETONS, YOU KNOW OUR TARSAL BONES CANNOT PERCEIVE COLD, UNLESS IT IS MAGICALLY PRODUCED! HOWEVER, YOU WERE SPEAKING METAPHORICALLY! IN THAT CASE I, THE GREAT ROYAL GUARD PAPYRUS, HAVE NO REGRETS IN INTRODUCING FRISK TO OUR FAMILY TRADITION! ”

 

“ i’m hearin’ a ‘but’ in there, bud. ” 

 

Papyrus rubbed his humerus, his eye sockets downcast. “ IT’S JUST… MUST WE IGNORE HER COMPLETELY? WHAT IF SHE THINKS WE’RE BEING MEAN? ” 

 

“ nah, she won’t. she’s probably figured it’s just some prank. ”

 

Papyrus threw his hands into the air. “ THAT’S ALMOST JUST AS BAD! AND IT’S NOT LIKE I CAN IGNORE HER FOREVER! SHE’S GOING TO SEE ME WHEN I TAKE MY SHIFT TOMORROW! ”

 

Sans shrugged. “ guess that means we’ll have to throw her a bone and move to phase two early. ” He checked the time on his c-phone. Toriel’s class wasn’t going to last much longer. And the kid liked to help out around camp at about this time, so the tent should be empty. Well, empty of anything  _ sentient _ , anyway. Hopefully that flower Frisk liked so much was still outside. He could feel his grin fixing itself into place as he thought about it.

 

Once the anomalies started happening golden flowers just didn’t agree with him, anymore. The strange thing was that Sans couldn’t quite remember why. He just seemed to wake up hating the things one fine day. There was something about the color that made him feel angry. It also evoked feelings of grief, although nobody had died or been killed. He thanked any god listening that the anomalies started AFTER his grandparents passed away, so he didn’t have to lose them over and over again. 

 

A chill crawled up and down his spine whenever he had to be in the same room as “Flowey”. It only got worse when he had his back to it, his instincts  _ screaming _ he’d have a bad time if he didn’t keep it in sight. He didn’t like leaving Frisk alone with it, but there was no evidence to say it would harm her in any way. It was just a weed, after all. 

 

…wasn’t it? But then there was the flower-shaped weirdo that caught them all when they tried to stop Frisk’s Fight with Asgore before it started. Being knocked out didn’t exactly help with memory retention, but didn’t Frisk call out a name…? 

 

“ BROTHER? ARE YOU ALRIGHT? ”

 

Sans snapped back to the present. His answer was automatic, as was the smile. “ sure bro. i’m just  **sans-sational** . ” He was holding his c-phone so tightly he was making the crystal and metal creak a little. He eased his grip as Papyrus rolled his eyes at him and groaned.

 

“ THAT’S WHAT YOU ALWAYS SAY! ” 

 

“ what else  _ can _ i say? it’s the only pun that makes  **sans-e** . ”

 

“ HONESTLY, BROTHER! YOU ALWAYS INSIST UPON  **NON-SENSE** AT THE MOST INAPPROPRIATE TIMES! ”

 

“ heh heh! good one, bro. ”

 

“ I KNOW! NYEH HEH HEH! ” Even as they laughed, Sans could tell Papyrus wasn’t done fretting over him. 

 

Time for a strategic withdrawal. He stood, shoving a hand into a pocket as he waved goodbye with the other, saying, “ welp, i’d better get goin’. phase two isn’t gonna start itself. later, paps! ” 

 

He rounded the tree, walking along the roots in the direction opposite of camp. Papyrus was jumping from root to root, trying to catch him, but he was already long-gone.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Frisk walked back to the tent, staring at her phone. She alternated between that and watching where she was going, a little annoyed that she couldn’t just put the infernal device into “sleep” mode. Well, she could, but then it would just keep beeping at her with notifications. Word about her wishing box got out, and now half of the Undernet had exploded at the news. 

 

Speculation ran rampant. Questions she didn’t want to answer about what occasion she was celebrating were so numerous she had to figure out how to set her messages to “friends only”. Arguments had broken out over the relevance of the box. One side said bullet-shaped cards and electronic correspondence were far superior. The other contended that a such a sentimental tradition should never have fallen by the wayside in the first place.

 

And  _ still _ nobody was claiming responsibility for bringing it into her life! Probably the only reason she wasn’t being bombarded with queries face-to-face was because Sorrel and Rochester cut such imposing figures. However, their shift was due to end soon and Greater Dog would their place. To be fair, he could be somewhat intimidating in his own way. When he wasn’t imitating a snow poff. As she opened the flap to enter her temporary home, she reflected that perhaps  _ this _ was the punchline for an elaborate prank designed to embarrass her to an early grave. It had “Sans” written all over it and-

 

Did the fabric flap just click?

 

Before the three of them could register they’d heard something there was a loud  **_bang_ ** , smoke and bits of debris suddenly clouding their vision. It tore a startled scream from Frisk’s throat as Rochester pulled her away from the tent and shoved her behind himself, Sorrel at his side.

 

“Princess! You okay, dude?”

 

“I… I’m fine…” Shaken but whole, Frisk brushed some of the debris out of her hair, where some had stuck. She gathered some in her hand and stared at it in confusion, still a bit shocked.

 

If Rochester felt confused, it didn’t show. He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, leaning down to look at the debris in her hand and identifying it. “…………confetti.”  

 

“Seriously?!” Sorrel rounded on the growing crowd, hands on his hips and his voice admonishing. “Okay, I get that everybody’s, like, excited for the princess and all, but this kind of prank is NOT cool! She could’ve been hurt! Like, c’mon guys!” He started grilling people, trying to figure out who the culprit was. 

 

Rochester took it upon himself to check the interior of the tent for more traps. Frisk tried to follow him and help, but he held a hand out to stop her. He shook his head, wanting her to stay a safe distance away. She nodded and obeyed, watching Sorrel interrogate people, smiling and waving whenever she was given worried looks to show everyone she was fine. The search didn’t take long.

 

“……tent’s clear. ……box is gone.”

 

“Great, so we got reckless endangerment and burglary! Sweet.  _ Not _ .” 

 

More Royal Guards arrived, drawn to the commotion. Frisk recognized Dogaressa and her husband Dogamy, among others. As the crowd dispersed the Dogi gave her quick sniff to make sure she was alright, then ran their noses over the tent. They had disgusted looks on their faces when they were done.

 

“It’s no good. The smoke covered everything else up.”

 

(“We can’t even smell Her Highness’ scent, and she lives here! It’s some strong stuff.”)

 

Greater Dog arrived to take his shift. As he was briefed on the situation Frisk used the time to go check on Flowey, filling him in. Again, he didn’t hear anyone enter or leave the tent. But he did agree with her and said “this has Chuckles’ signature all over it.” 

 

Frisk sighed a little, knowing Flowey hadn’t bestowed the nickname upon Sans out of any feeling of affection. But she didn’t pinch the former prince since it technically wasn’t an insult. She picked him up and brought him with her as the impromptu guard meeting dissolved. 

 

Greater Dog knelt upon an armored knee and sniffed her, whining in a worried manner. She smiled and gave him pets. Sorrel and Rochester lingered nearby, although their shift already ended. The rabbit guard looked to his partner, tilting his head toward Frisk as he asked a silent question. He received an equally silent nod of agreement and encouragement. Bolstered, they approached Frisk.

 

“Princess? D’you want us to, y’know, stick around? If you need us, I mean.”

 

Frisk shook her head, saying, “I’ll be fine with just Greater Dog. You two have earned your break, with me dragging you both all over camp for no reason. Go on and enjoy yourselves.”

 

“Well… if you’re sure. Laters, little princess dude!”

 

“………stay safe.” They left, holding hands. Even as things calmed down Frisk couldn’t help but wonder where the box had gone, and who had taken it. Why was it given to her, only to be taken away? 

 

She had a feeling the punchline wasn’t over, yet.

* * *

 


	17. Operation Birthday (Phase 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Plan moves forward..

* * *

 

_ Manuela’s plan had been simple; a surprise birthday party at the Sanchez home. Her whole family had supported her, and wanted Francine to feel welcomed… _

 

**Chapter 16: Operation Birthday (Phase 2)**

 

A simple, unassuming box had been left in the middle of The Plaza, in New Home. Most of the people walking by wouldn’t have paid it any attention under normal circumstances. But, according to the Undernet, their princess posted a picture of herself holding it. People reading the discussions on her blog learned that the wishing box was special, and so they paid more attention to it. 

 

Many stuffed little notes inside, following tradition. Others found bullet-shaped cards that would fit through the slot and put those in. Some thought that a box sitting in the middle of the city when it should’ve been outside the princess’ home was strange. But then someone posted a new opinion on matter, albeit in a goofy font.

 

Although they’d welcomed Frisk to their kingdom when she was adopted, they hadn’t welcomed her  _ home _ . Perhaps someone was trying to tell them they needed to let her know she was right where she belonged. And what better place to do that than in the middle of their biggest city?

 

Like a stone thrown into a puddle the sentiment rippled throughout the Underground, making its way to the Surface. As it did the box overflowed with notes and cards. When it could fit no more people started piling cards beside it. Some left gifts tied to their cards. Prettily polished rocks, small stuffed animals, single flowers and even bouquets were all piled together. Although nobody knew what occasion the box was originally supposed to celebrate, it didn’t matter. All of it was all for their princess, their savior… the little angel that freed them all. 

 

What more did they need to know?

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Frisk sat on her sleeping bag, borrowing her mother’s sewing kit to make a little scarf for Flowey. He sat beside her and said he didn’t need or want one, but she was still worried about him having to live through winter on the surface. He reminded her that he was completely fine burrowing around Snowdin (confirming an old suspicion of Frisk’s that he’d been following her throughout her journey in the Underground.) But she remained determined to finish her project. 

 

She almost  _ had _ to. She’d never done well with crafts involving sewing needles, and she could only finish things through intense focus and stubbornness if it was to be done properly. As a consequence she didn’t hear the beginning of the knock-knock joke at her door. Not until a certain someone knocked on Greater Dog’s armor, making it ring.

 

“ knock knock, kiddo! ”

 

Frisk jumped, accidentally poking herself as she was jolted from her trance-like state.  She hissed, but didn’t cry out in pain. It wasn’t the first time she’d stuck herself on a needle, after all. “Sorry! Who’s there?” Frisk sucked on her finger to stop the bleeding as the joke continued. 

 

“ cumin. ”

 

“Cumin who?”

 

“ may i cumin? ”

 

“Of course you may.” As the tent flap moved to let Sans in, Frisk said, “Are you sure you should have told me that joke? It seems a bit spicy for my age.”

 

“ heh heh! nah, that one was pretty mild. i’ve still got too much zest for life to teach you  _ those _ kinds of jokes. i’m not ready to be roasted by your mom. ” He saw the way Frisk was holding her finger and his smile evaporated. “ you okay there, kid? ” 

 

“I was sewing and the needle bit me,” said Frisk, holding up the culprit before putting it safely back in the sewing box. “I’ll be fine.”

 

“ lemme see. ” As Sans said that he was already kneeling and reaching into his coat pocket. A drop of blood welled up from the tiny puncture on her fingertip, making an almost perfect sphere of red at the site. “ does it hurt? ”

 

“Some.” Sans gave her a look, and she expanded on her answer. “While it’s hardly debilitating it  _ is _ rather uncomfortable, but I’ll live.” 

 

He sighed at how stoic she was being, even for a teenager. “ why do i get the feeling your folks weren’t the type to kiss your boo-boos better, when you were little? ” 

 

Frisk’s stone-faced silence on the matter spoke volumes. Sans shook his head and pulled a little bottle and a handkerchief out of his pocket. He gave Frisk the hankie to clean the blood off as he unscrewed the lid, revealing a dropper. After taking in a pinch of whatever medicine was in the bottle, Frisk held her finger out for treatment, Sans using his free hand to steady hers. 

 

A single drop of green-tinged, slightly viscous fluid fell onto her finger. For a second it simply sat there, then it glowed faintly as its magic was absorbed. Sans put his things away and Frisk watched in fascination as her puncture wound closed up, a soothingly cool sensation replacing the jagged pain. 

 

Frisk looked at him with an expression of squinted wonder. “What was that?”

 

Sans chuckled, saying, “ just a little somethin’ i whipped up in my alchemy days. ” 

 

“You  _ made _ it? That’s amazing! But… couldn’t you just use green magic?”

 

“ i could have… but i’m not the best at healing. so i had to think of other ways to soothe chemical burns when the good healers weren’t around. ”

 

Frisk tilted her head. “But Alphys told me you were just an apprentice, before you left alchemy. They let apprentices around dangerous experiments?”

 

Sans rubbed the back of his neck. “ yeah, well… i didn’t exactly make it for myself. some of the senior alchemists could be kinda scatterbrained, and clumsy. some more than others. ” He grinned and winked. “ let’s just say i got a  _ lot _ of practice on how to do first aid without green magic. ”

 

Frisk chuckled. “It sounds like a lively time. Do you miss it?”

 

“ you mean do i miss the all-nighters, the endless gofer runs, dragging half-conscious alchemists to the bed room  _ and _ tyin’ ‘em down, just so they’d get a little shut-eye?  _ heck _ no! ” He laughed, but it ended with a sigh. “ i might not miss the work, but i do miss the people i worked with. sometimes. ” 

 

Especially the people that never existed. No matter how many times Sans told everyone they’d lived, they were always forgotten. Even Papyrus forgot, eventually. He was the only one who remembered…

 

“Sans? Are you alright?”

 

He blinked, and checked himself. His grin was still in place, and he whipped out his usual phrase, adding a wink for good measure. “ sure, kiddo. i’m just  **sans-sational** . ” 

 

Frisk’s face didn’t even twitch at the pun. She just opened her eyes and  _ looked _ at him. Only decades of practice kept his expression and body relaxed enough that he didn’t start sweating. Eventually she sighed softly, dropping whatever thought had been going through her head. She squinted as she changed the subject.

 

“So, what brings you here today? I doubt you’re here just to share knock-knock jokes.”

 

Sans internally sighed with relief, feeling like he dodged a bullet. Externally, he shrugged with hands and shoulders. “ oh, i don’t know about that. i mean, it’s what i did with your mom all the time. she always thought my jokes were  **a-door-able** . ”  _ That _ one got a little smile out of her. “ but you’re right. i’m actually here to take you on a little field trip. ”

 

Frisk tilted her head. Her expression was innocent enough, but the tone of her voice was more pointed. “Oh? This wouldn’t have anything to do with that strange little box that was mysteriously bestowed upon me, then later stolen, was it?”

 

Sans grinned. “ maybe. you’re gonna have to come with me to find out. ” As he said that he stood, offering his left hand to help her off the ground. She took it, but a strange expression crossed her face as she stood, making Sans ask, “ what’s with the face? ”

 

After blinking, Frisk said, “Your hand. It feels… different.”

 

Remembering the one time he’d held her hand, he raised a brow ridge at her. “ different how? ”

 

“I’m… not sure, exactly. Warmer? Fuzzier? It’s like touching a beekeeper’s hive and feeling all the bees buzzing. My hand is almost humming.” 

 

“ oh, that! that’s just my aura, kiddo. its the thin layer of magic right against my bones. it must be reacting to yours. ” After another second of hand-holding, he said, “ huh… your aura feels kinda faint, though… ” He squeezed her hand, gently squishing to get closer to her bones until he could feel it. “ ah, that’s why. your stuff is in the way. ”

 

Frisk’s brow knit in confusion. “…my stuff?”

 

Sans waved his free hand, gesturing to her entirety as he said, “yeah! you know, your… physicality. what’s holdin’ you together. your stuff.”

 

Frisk took her hand back and tilted her head. “I see… Is that the proper alchemical term for it?”

 

Sans shoved his own hands into his pockets. “ heheh, yup! it’s just one of the many arcane terminologies alchemists have employed over the centuries in their pursuit of knowledge. it’s right up there with ‘thingy’, ‘whats-it’ and ‘doo-dad.’ ” 

 

Frisk suspected that he was lying, but she couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous Sans was being. He laughed along with her, for a moment, before continuing the conversation.

 

“ well, it makes sense that you’ve got an aura, since you’ve got magic in your bones. anything made of magic is gonna react to it and make little vibrations. if it ever gets too uncomfortable you should tell your mom so you can go see talia, okay? ” He shuddered, a bit. “ oof. can’t imagine what it’s like to have so much stuff hangin’ off your bones. i’d probably suffocate. ”

 

“How can you suffocate without lungs?”

 

“ beats me. but i would, anyway. ” In fact, Sans knew it was his  _ soul _ that needed to breathe, not so much his body. But they didn’t have time for him to go into the intricacies of skeletonkind’s physiology. Half of them were The Great Mysteries, anyway (which’d never had any satisfactory answers. Ever.) Besides, they’d already wasted enough time. It was almost naptime, and Sans didn’t feel like sleeping somewhere too obvious.

 

Sans took a hand out of his pocket, making a sweeping gesture toward the door as he stood to one side, bowing with his usual wink. “ princesses first. ”

 

Frisk nodded and thanked him, chuckling a little. But once she was past him Sans suddenly grabbed both her shoulders, staying behind her as he turned her around to face the back of the tent. Only it wasn’t the back of the tent, anymore. At some point during his antics he used a shortcut to take them… somewhere. She turned her head and gave him an old-fashioned look, making him chuckle as he removed his hands.

 

“Was that really necessary?” asked Frisk.

 

“ to see the look on your face? yes, yes it was. ” 

 

She didn’t want to dignify that with an answer so Frisk looked around, trying to get her bearings. They’d appeared in an alley of some sort. She didn’t recognize where they were, but she recognized the architecture of the buildings surrounding them. “So what you want to show me is in New Home?” 

 

“ got it in one. ” He grinned as he tilted his head over his shoulder, already moving away to lead Frisk to… wherever-it-was he was taking her. 

 

They wound their way through the maze-like streets of New Home. Frisk found Sans’ lazy pace easy to follow, although the occasional puzzle tried to trip them up. They eventually made it to a main street, but they didn’t step onto it. Sans kept them in the mouth of the alley, half-hidden behind a trash can as he looked down the street at… something. He encouraged her to look at whatever-it-was with a grin.

 

Frisk didn’t know what to make of it, at first. It was just a pile of random things sitting in the middle of The Plaza, in her eyes. Stuffed animals, flowers, and rocks were all tied to brightly colored pieces of paper. The pile had been built around something…

 

She gasped softly, not wanting to raise her voice to startle any of the monsters passing by. Equally softly she asked, “Is that where the wishing box went?” Sans only smiled as her thoughts continued. “Are all those things wishes? And gifts?” She swallowed, feeling a little bit ill. “Who… who are the gifts for?”

 

“ i think you already know, kiddo. ” 

 

Frisk thought the well-wishes of Grillby and his customers had been enough. It’d been a quaint little custom that was almost fun to participate in, but  _ this? _ This was too much. She wanted to protest. She wanted to say this wasn’t funny. She wanted to  _ scream _ that she didn’t deserve any of it! But all Frisk managed to do was open and close her mouth like a fish out of water. Something about her expression must have concerned Sans, because his grin was fading and his pupils looked worried.

 

“ you ok- ”

 

“Dude, look! Here it is!”

 

Frisk panicked, crouching behind the trash can as she heard Sorrel’s familiar voice. Sans slowly followed suit, pulling his hood over his head. She didn’t hear clanking, but somebody was running down the street while being followed more sedately by someone with claws on their toes that clacked on the cobblestone pavement. She peeked cautiously from behind the trashcan, finding her two bodyguards in street clothes as they stood before the wishing box. Their backs were turned to her, Sorrel standing to Rochester’s left. They were just barely close enough for their conversation to be overheard.

 

Sorrel bounced on his toes, and sounded happy. “Dude, the princess is gonna be SO stoked to hear her box is okay! And look at all this stuff! Guess my sister wasn’t exaggerating about how popular Her Highness is today.”

 

Rochester could barely be heard, but his voice still reached Frisk’s ears. “…Clover really came through. …should thank her.”

 

“Totally! And-! Wait.” Sorrel turned to Rochester, letting Frisk see his astonished expression. “Dude, you remember my sister’s name?”

 

“…’course I do. …told me.”

 

“Yeah! Like, once!”

 

“……so? …still told me. …makes it important.” 

 

Frisk could see Sorrel’s blush from her hiding place, and his pleased smile. “Awww, c’mon, man! How’re you so sweet?” He laughed as he said, “Oh my god, I can’t deal!” Without his helmet’s visor to hide behind Sorrel grabbed his long ears and covered his face with them, though it couldn’t quite hide the way his mouth was stretched into the happiest smile Frisk had ever seen. His blush spread to his ears, anyway, rendering the point of hiding moot. 

 

She couldn’t see Rochester’s face, but the hand that released one of Sorrel’s ears from its prison was gentle. He laced the fingers of their hands together before glancing at the box again, probably taking in the mess surrounding it. It put a more thoughtful expression on Sorrel’s face as he gave it a sideways glance. Looking back at Rochester, he said, “Dude… are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

 

“…should leave it here.” He turned his face back to Sorrel. “…don’t think so?”

 

The rabbit shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong, man. It’s cool people wanna let Her Highness know we care, but the box was  _ in her home _ . Someone stole it, so we gotta return it.”

 

The dragon was adamant. “…don’t know who gave it to her in the first place. …maybe they were lending it? …maybe they’re still lending it. …but it’s theirs. …they move it when they want, where they want.”

 

“I can get that… it’s just.” Sorrel sighed. “That prank wasn’t cool. That popper was  _ loud _ , and I can still hear her scream, dude. I thought she was hurt! If you hadn’t been there, I would’ve totally freaked out.” He smiled shyly. “Thanks, by the way. For being there. For being… you.”

 

Rochester squeezed the hand he held. “…any time.” Staring at the box for another moment, he said, “…should tell the Captain, let her know it’s here. …before we do…”

 

Sorrel smiled. “You wanna leave a thank-you card, too?” At a nod from his partner, Sorrel raised their entwined hands. “I mean,  _ this _ wouldn’t have happened if it wasn’t for her, y’know? If she didn’t tell me to be honest with my feelings… I probably never would’ve told you.”

 

“………me neither.” It almost seemed like that was all Rochester was going to say, but then he ducked his head shyly. “…was happy as just friends. …hoped for more, but…”

 

“I know, right?! Hoping there was something there, but not wanting to screw up our team attack by asking awkward questions, y’know? Then you go busting out of your armor like that and…” Sorrel laughed a little, covering his face with a palm. “Dude, I still can’t believe you did that!” 

 

The scales on the back of Rochester’s neck started changing color. Was he blushing? “…………was roasting alive in there.”

 

“I know, I know!” Sorrel swung his arm happily, taking Rochester’s with it. “I think I saw a greeting card shop still open, a couple blocks back.”

 

“……let’s go.” 

 

Still holding hands they turned back the way they came. Frisk ducked behind the trash can, curling into herself and hugging her knees as she waited for her guards to leave. She was waiting for everyone to leave, really. She didn’t want people to see her trying to run from them and their misplaced generosity and consideration. 

 

Sans was looking at her with an unreadable expression, white pupils shining from the shadow of his hood to look through her eyelashes and down into her soul. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. He didn’t make his iris glow, so he wasn’t  _ really _ doing so. She still hid her face and curled into herself a little tighter, hoping the lazybones would eventually give up on her and leave if she stayed quiet enough. Or that he’d fall asleep so she could run. She hoped he did _ something _ besides what he was doing now! 

 

Their silent stalemate lasted for a long moment before Sans sighed. He made himself comfortable, lowering his hood and sitting on the ground near Frisk, resting his spine against the wall of the alley. After staring at the motionless princess for another moment he softly asked, “ is it really so hard to believe people wish you well, kiddo? that they wanna thank you for everything you’ve done? ”

 

Frisk wanted to tell him she’d done nothing, but she couldn’t. Not without telling him about Flowey. About Asriel. About dying and returning only to die again and again. She couldn’t tell him it wasn’t her power that broke the barrier. The monsters had freed themselves alongside the six human souls, all of them guided by the hand of a little boy whom she doomed to soullessness for the rest of his days. If anything, the wishes and gifts beside the box should be for  _ him _ … _! _

 

She’d been trying not to think about it, but as the days went by it became clear the monsters saw her as their angel. They all thought  _ she _ was the one that freed them, and she could never tell them the truth. She couldn’t say she did nothing to deserve any of their gratitude, but she had to smile and accept it all, anyway. It was worse than accepting the false condolences of her human parents’ “friends” after they died, because the monsters were being sincere. 

 

Frisk wasn’t used to sincerity from so many people at once. Not at all. 

 

“ kid… frisk, you know i’m still all ears, right? why don’t you tell me what’s buggin’ you so bad? what’s wrong with people doin’ somethin’ nice for ya? ”

 

“…………too much.” Muffled by her face being pressed into her knees, Sans almost didn’t hear what Frisk said. But it managed to reach him, anyway. He was still confused.

 

“ what’s too much, kiddo? ” 

 

“………everything.” 

 

“ i still don’t get it… ” 

 

Frisk said no more, shaking her head while still curled into the smallest ball she could manage. Sans eventually sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. 

 

Phase Two was officially a bust. Instead of making Frisk feel like she belonged, he’d gone and overwhelmed her, somehow. But they couldn’t stay in the alley all night, waiting for her to get over what was going through her head. 

 

Sans made himself smile, speaking softly but cheerfully. “ c’mon. let’s make like trees and  **leaf** . this isn’t the best place  **fo-rest** . ” He stood, waiting for Frisk to get up on her own and follow him further down the alley… but she didn’t move. A little more firmly, he said, “ up and at ‘em, kiddo. we gotta go. ” 

 

Frisk flinched. She started shivering, but still didn’t unfurl herself. She said nothing, but he heard her teeth chattering. Sans took off his coat and threw it over Frisk’s head, covering her the way he did after she passed out Fighting Papyrus. If she was shivering that meant she was cold, right? He knelt beside her, rubbing her back as she eventually stopped shivering. Dread filled his soul.

 

“ frisk… is this what always you do when you’re overwhelmed? hide how upset you are, keepin’ it inside? ” She gave him a tiny, nearly imperceptible nod that was almost swallowed by his coat. He shook his head and asked, “ _ why? _ kiddo, you gotta talk to me. tell me how i can help. ” 

 

A tiny voice answered him from the depths of his coat. “…hide. I have… t-to hide…”

 

“ okay. ” That was all Sans said before using a shortcut.

* * *

 


	18. You Are My Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans is lazy about cleaning up.

* * *

 

_ The plan backfired. The outpouring of familial acceptance overwhelmed poor, unsuspecting Francine, making her bolt in a panic. It took Manuela’s parents nearly an hour to find and calm her friend down enough to return home and eat the dinner everyone had prepared. Franny didn’t open her presents until the next day. _

 

**Chapter 17: You Are My Rock**

 

San’s shortcut took them to the hidden park bench in Waterfall. The echo flower didn’t have much too say, the laughter they shared weeks ago faded and indistinct. Still sitting on the ground covered in his coat, Frisk pulled the garment a little more over her head, covering her face fully and draping herself in its heavy warmth. 

 

It was almost like being back at the Kane estate. Whenever she could no longer hide the tears within herself she would cocoon herself in blankets, or climb into her wardrobe wrapped in a ratty old robe her father didn’t wear anymore. As long as the dark was somewhat warm and had some softness, it didn’t bother her the way being punished did. She found comfort in it, using it to replace the hugs her human parents eventually stopped giving her. 

 

Sans’ coat smelled even more like pickles than it had the last time she hid under it, the day the two of them met. The thought that he probably didn’t wash it regularly crossed her mind, but it didn’t disgust her. It only made the fun memories stronger. Playing along with Papyrus’s puzzles, Sans’ attempts to prank her throughout the snowy forest, that first lunch at Grillby’s… they all flowed through her like the river, gentle and calming. 

 

A bony hand started rubbing her back, again. She knew Sans was only trying to help. She knew she had to talk. Of all the people that deserved an explanation, he’d be among the first to tell. But could she give that explanation without talking about Asriel? Without telling him about all her deaths? He’d never believe her! She was sure he’d smile and  _ say _ he did, but he wouldn’t. Not deep down, where it mattered. She didn’t think she could bear to see the look on his face as he humored her, believing the truth to be nothing more than a cry for attention. 

 

Sans stopped rubbing her back, moving his hand to squeeze her shoulder gently. “ i’m gonna pop out for a sec, ” he said. “ i’ll be right back, so you just stay put, okay? ” When Frisk remained silent he shook her shoulder pointedly and said, “ _ okay _ , kiddo? ”

 

“…okay.” 

 

Her shoulder was squeezed again before he stood and disappeared in a blink, leaving Frisk with the quiet water and her thoughts.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans mentally threw every curse and swear word he knew at every human who had  _ ever _ hurt Frisk. His shortcut put him just on the outskirts of camp, a short distance away from the tent he shared with Papyrus. He would have popped in directly, but he didn’t want to chance winding up on top of his brother. Or, god forbid, having their bones stuck together like a jigsaw puzzle from Hell. It hadn’t happened yet, but Sans tried to be careful of such things when he used his… unique ability.

 

Imagining how Papyrus would react to such a situation made him chuckle, calming him enough to smile more naturally as he entered his temporary home. He found the tent flap thrown wide open, letting the light in as Papyrus cared for his armor. His brother sat on his cot with his breastplate balanced on one knee, cloth squeaking as he polished the metal. He noticed Sans’ shadow and greeted him without looking up from his task.

 

“ Hello, Brother! Back already? ” 

 

“ yeah, but just for a sec. gotta grab somethin’ real quick. ”

 

“ Oh, and what would that b-? Sans! Where is your coat? ”

 

Stepping into the tent put Sans in Papyrus’ peripheral vision, and he felt his brother’s gaze upon his back as he knelt to reach under his cot. He tensed for a fraction of a second as he retrieved Rockwell, but forced himself to relax as he stood. He made a nonplussed face as he said, “ huh. must’ve lost it. better go look for it. might as well take rocky for a walk while i do. see ya. ” 

 

Papyrus’ hand darted out, catching Sans by the humerus before he could leave. Sans had a second to marvel at how  _ fast _ his brother could be before Papyrus said, in a softened voice, “ I don’t suppose that, when you find your coat, it will be in need of rock therapy? ”

 

“……… maybe. ”

 

Papyrus lowered his voice even more, as close to a real whisper as he ever got, eye sockets worried. “ Do you need me to come with you? ”

 

Sans tried to smile reassuringly. “ i think rocky’s got this covered, bro. ” And, loathe as he was to admit it, he didn’t have the energy to bring another person on his shortcut, anyway. Being about the size of an tomato, Rockwell could be stowed in his pocket during the trip. Hauling the things in his inventory through a shortcut didn’t drain his magic the way “passengers” did. Sans slipped Rockwell into said pocket as he felt himself being tugged to one side.

 

Papyrus pulled him into a hug that was just shy of bone-crushing before he could move away. Then he let go, held Sans’ shoulders, looked him right in the orbits and said, “ Please give that hug to… your coat. And don’t dally! I’m sure it needs it as soon as possible! ” 

 

Although his younger brother tried to keep his tone of voice cheerful, his eyes were still worried. Then again, only a  _ real _ bonehead wouldn’t be able to guess who Sans was really trying to help. One who didn’t know about Operation Birthday, and what they were trying to accomplish. The kind of bonehead Papyrus had  _ never _ been, contrary to popular belief amongst their “esteemed peers”. 

 

Sans smiled warmly, saying, “ sure thing, paps. ” He rubbed his brother’s skull the way he used to, back when the big guy had been just a little guy. Before Papyrus could grumble about being treated like a babybones Sans took a step back, taking quick glance outside to make sure nobody was looking inside the tent. He gave Papyrus one last grin before shortcutting back to Frisk. He popped into existence in a corner behind the bench, well clear of where he’d left the princess and any other object in the room.

 

He closed his eyes, wanting to sigh but keeping it in. The magic reserves built up from his last nap had just been drained. He was an old man with weary bones, no matter how young he’d been when he stopped aging. Anyone who said otherwise was a dirty liar. After shortcutting all over the place  _ all day _ , it was definitely time for a break.

 

Sans opened his right eye, looking at the spot he left Frisk in. She hadn’t moved, thankfully. He wouldn’t have put it past the resourceful and determined princess to take a little swim down the river, just to get out of the room and away from the kind of conversation that needed to happen. But she hadn’t, so it was time to introduce the kid to another Gaster Brother tradition.

 

He strolled up to Frisk, pulling Rockwell out of his pocket as he did. He cheerfully said, “ i’m back, and guess who came with me! but no peeking. go on, i bet you’ll never get it. ” Sans hoped she’d play along, but she didn’t. She looked over her shoulder at him, one squinted eye peering out from her improvised hidey-hole. 

 

“ aw, you peeked! cheater. ” He winked to lessen any sting Frisk might feel from the admonishment. She didn’t really react, just looking at what he held in his hand. “ okay, okay. i went and got rocky. before i get into why, paps had somethin’ for ya. but you gotta stand up for it. ” 

 

Frisk looked up at his face. At least, Sans thought she did. It could be hard to tell where she was looking, unless she obviously moved her head. After a couple seconds of internal debate she pulled the coat back over her face and stood, turning to face him. Sans felt like sighing again, but ignored the temptation.

 

“ normally i charge for these, ” he said, “ but since i’m just passin’ on a message this one’s on paps. ” Sans heard a confused little murmur from the depths of his coat, but he didn’t give Frisk time to puzzle out what he’d just said. He embraced her the same way Papyrus had done to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. Frisk was tense, at first, but she soon relaxed. She even settled her head on his shoulder, though she still had his coat over her head. Sans rolled his eyes at how shy she was being, but he had a message to finish conveying.

 

“ i’m not as good at ‘em as paps is, ” said Sans, “ but the big guy said to give my coat a hug. cool of him, but i wonder why he’d say such a thing? he can be such a goofball, sometimes. ” 

 

Frisk settled herself even further onto his shoulder. She made no sign that she was uncomfortable, which was good, but Sans knew they couldn’t stand there all day. “ okay, okay, enough with the mushy stuff. leggo’a me. ” She chuckled at his antics, just a little. Was she feeling better already? He hoped so. After they parted, Sans went on. “ now that  _ that’s _ outta the way, on to why rockwell is here. ”

 

He presented the stone in his hand with a flourish. “ this little lady is a  **bone-a fide** therapy rock. she’ll listen to everything you say without judgin’, and she’s the  _ best _ at keepin’ secrets. if there’s somethin’ you wanna get off your chest, she’s the perfect one to tell. take a seat and we’ll get you two started. ”

 

Frisk didn’t move. She didn’t take the coat off her face, either, as she said, “If you’re going to nap, don’t you need the bench?” 

 

“ nah, i’ll be fine on the ground. i’ve slept on worse, believe it or not. by the way… ” Sans raised a brow ridge at Frisk as he asked, “ are you gonna hide in my coat forever? ”

 

She nodded. “I like it in here. It’s warm, and private.” Frisk swayed from side-to-side in the most restrained happy-dance Sans had ever seen. He’d seen some cute happy-dances in his life, Frisk’s being only one of many (Papyrus’ being the best, of course), but this was getting ridiculous.

 

He shook his head. “ i’m glad you think so, kiddo, but don’t you think it’s time you came outta there? i don’t scare you  _ that _ bad, do i? ”

 

“I don’t know, Your Honor. Judge ‘The Only Reason You’re Alive Is Because I Promised So.’ Should I  _ not _ be scared of you?”

 

Sans winced internally. Frisk’s tone was cheeky, not accusatory, but that was still a low blow. While all the banter probably meant she was mentally stable at the moment he was starting to regret telling her that. 

 

“ i told you i was just kidding! ” said Sans. “ i don’t think you realize how stone-faced you get, sometimes. it makes a guy want to say stupid stuff, just to get your goat. ” He tossed and caught Rockwell a few times, winking in his usual manner. “ i was makin’ sure you weren’t related to my pet rock, y’know? ” 

 

Frisk’s head popped out of the coat. The garment settled on her shoulders as she deadpanned, “You can’t have either of my goats. They’re still married.”

 

Sans almost dropped his pet, trying not to laugh. And she had the nerve to call  _ him _ out on spicy jokes! She gave him a teeny-tiny smile he knew well. It was the expression of someone that was satisfied with the reaction to their joke and trying not to show it. He wanted to pun right back… but he could see what Frisk was doing. She was appealing to his sense of humor to distract him, and make him forget what he had planned. 

 

Unfortunately for her, he  _ invented _ that technique. He wasn’t about to let it work on him, no matter how much fun it would be.

 

“ that was a good one, kid, ” he said, “ but you’re not gettin’ outta this that easily. you need to talk to someone, and i need a nap. we’re not leavin’ this room ‘til at least one of those things happens. ” He pointed to the bench using the hand that held Rockwell. “ now  **park** it. ” 

 

Frisk sighed dejectedly. “Park bench. I get it. And I suppose I should return your coat, too?” She made to remove the coat from her shoulders, but was obviously reluctant. 

 

Sans shook his head. “ nah, you can keep it ‘til i wake up. just… don’t feel like you gotta hide from me, okay? i’m only here to help. ”

 

“…I know.” 

 

Frisk’s demeanor was subdued as she walked to the bench. Her arms slipped into the sleeves of the coat, her hands lost in the voluminous material. Hell, not even  _ his _ hands made it all the way to the end! The hem of the sleeve was supposed to sit on the carpus, not cover the metacarpi the way it did on him (although it made good cover for his whoopee cushion gag). The coat made them both look like kids playing dress-up, but it hadn’t been made for them. Its measurements had been intended for someone of a completely different build, the person who had given his coat to Sans. The extra DEF had saved his life during The Incident. Too bad he didn’t manage to save  _ himself _ , that horrible day…

 

Sans shoved the thought back into the shadows of his mind. He was just tired. That was why he was thinking about people who never existed when he should’ve been focusing on Frisk. Once she was seated he asked her, “ ya comfy, kiddo? ” At a nod he gave her Rockwell, plopping the stone in Frisk’s cloth-covered, cupped hands. “ there we go.

 

“ now, all you have to do is talk. doesn’t matter what you talk about, just get if off your chest and rocky will listen. she’s not much for advice, but you’ll feel better tellin’  _ someone _ , no matter how absurd you think it is. ”

 

Frisk stared at the rock in her hands, then back up at Sans. “Have you ever needed to tell Rockwell something you couldn’t tell anyone else?”

 

He almost lied and said he didn’t, but something about the way she was squinting at him made him pause and reconsider. Instead, he said, “ ...yeah, i have. plenty of times. ” Thankfully, she didn’t ask about what he told Rockwell. Her question did make him wonder…

 

Sans’ legs began to quiver, rattling slightly as a familiar wave of dizziness hit him. No questions now, too tired. He lowered himself to the ground before he collapsed, laying a couple feet away from the bench. His hood covered his eye sockets, his arms went behind his head, he crossed his legs at the ankles and he wriggled his shoulders to settle in. After a deep sigh he was half-asleep as he said, “ wake me up whenever you’re done, kiddo. ”

 

He fell into sleep’s familiar embrace within minutes.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

While Sans was gone, Frisk had just enough time to realize her behavior was inexcusable. But the coat had been so comforting she wondered if she could lighten the mood, just a bit, by pretending to keep hiding in it. In retrospect, it was an infantile plan. She had expected Sans to whisk it off her, like a stage magician using a handkerchief to make a bouquet “appear” in his hand. She never thought he’d let her keep it, much less receive a relayed hug from Papyrus. The both of them were really too kind. 

 

She still couldn’t tell them about Asriel or what happened at the barrier, but they were both very kind.

 

She began to count the seconds, waiting for Sans to fall into a deeper sleep before she started talking to Rockwell. Since he didn’t have eyelids (just plates of bone mimicking them) she was guessing how long it would take him to reach the REM state. After approximately ten minutes, she figured he was in a deep-enough sleep to talk, as long as she did so quietly, but what to say? Admittedly, it felt a bit silly to contemplate talking to a rock at all, but Sans had a point about needing to tell  _ someone _ . She didn’t miss the subtle shift in his expression after her question, either. 

 

The Kane family was full of liars, and they surrounded themselves with other liars. She could tell when an adult was about to lie to her, but Sans changed his mind just before doing so. Knowing he’d talked to Rockwell about his secrets made it feel less silly. Once she started it became easier to share, just like it’d been when she faced Sans in the Last Corridor.

 

She began with her deaths, then expressed her confusion on why “determination” was all it took to manipulate time. She shared her fear that she was living in a dream and would wake at any given moment, erasing everything. 

 

She rambled about her life with the Kanes. How everyone mocked the shape and color of her eyes, then later mocked her squint after everyone told her to “do something” about them. How all the girls her age laughed at her because she wasn’t as “developed” as they were, and that she found books and the flowers in the garden to be more interesting than whatever gossip they were sharing. They’d just been imitating their own mothers and the gossip  _ they _ shared over too much wine. 

 

She bemoaned her status as an “illegitimate, but still being raised as legitimate” daughter. She (quietly) raged at the unfairness of life in general, and shared her other fear that her good times with the monsters would end, no matter how much they loved and protected her.

 

By the time she felt like she could finally stop talking she felt… not “better,” and not “bad”, just… numb. Drained. Tired. Sans’ coat was heavy, and warm… 

 

Without really thinking about it Frisk curled up on her side, laying on the bench with Rockwell tucked against her stomach. She could feel her eyelids getting heavier, the siren’s song of sleep as much of a lullaby as the ethereal, barely-there laughter of the echo flower. She remembered the warmth of a bony shoulder, and the strength of two brothers’ worth of hugs…

 

The quiet water echoed softly, washing her worries away. She drifted with the current, dreaming of peace.

* * *

 


	19. Boneheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Undyne has a "discussion" with certain people...

* * *

 

_ Manuela remembered more of her friend’s “bad days.” She tried to simply be there, but there’d been times when she wished she’d been able to shake a little sense into Francine. Without scaring her friend away, of course. _

 

**Chapter 18: Boneheads**

 

_ Dark, darker, yet darker… Time and space lost all meaning as the abyss did its best to tear him to shreds. There was nothing here. There never had been, and there would never be. Nothing but a sigh like the wind. And yet light still shone…  _

 

_ Confusion. Weren’t the photon readings negative? What were they doing here? Curiosity compelled investigation.  _

 

_ Closer, and closer. Warmth grew, strong and yet weak at the same time, making it all the more precious. It flickered like a golden star. For some reason it made him think of Frisk… The shadows grew, snaking around the light, choking it.  _

 

_ Desperation. He wanted to help, for once in his life he  _ tried _ to help, but the light was being pulled away from him. An empty face watched on, ringed in a golden mane before it smiled, a cruel expression tinged with red. A familiar scarf covered in dust tripped him, then wrapped around him. He was bound, trapped,  _ **_helpless_ ** _. _

 

_ Laughter echoed, demented and triumphant before his soul was torn apart. It happened again, and again, and again, and AGAIN!!! He screamed… but nobody came. _

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans’ soul felt like it was being stuffed back into his ribcage as he was jarred from sleep. The nightmare’s details were already fading, leaving behind only a vague sense of nausea and sorrow. His soul pounded, and his body was tense as it prepared to Fight… something. His teeth were clenched around a scream so tightly they ached. His breaths were fast, bordering on hyperventilation and only practiced control kept them from going that far. His left eye glowed brilliant yellow, hardly any trace of cyan to be seen as it darted left and right, adding its light to the room. He couldn’t remember where he was!

 

Memories returned in jumbled fragments. Frisk! Sans bolted upright, turning his head to his left. He found the princess curled up on the park bench, right where he left her. She wasn’t hurt or in distress, just sleeping. His soul pounded against his sternum as he stared at her, trying to convince himself of that. He finally closed his eyes when Frisk murmured, covering her eyes to block the light shining from his.

 

Sans admonished himself as he struggled to control his magic. * _ calm down, you bonehead. she’s fine. frisk is perfectly fine. it was just a bad dream. you’ve had ‘em before. calm down before you wake her up, like you do to paps!  _

 

It took longer than he felt it should have, though in reality it didn’t take long at all. As he looked toward her with white pupils Sans couldn’t quite believe Frisk was really there. He’d done the dream-in-a-dream-in-a-dream thing before. Those were  _ not _ fun. 

 

He half-expected her to crumble into dust before his eyes, until he remembered humans didn’t do that when they died. How was he supposed to know she was really alive, then? He had the knowledge in his mind, somewhere, but for some reason it wasn’t coming to the forefront like it was supposed to. He needed it. He had to  _ know _ .

 

His eye glowed again as he Checked Frisk, this time being careful not to shine the faint beam into her eyes. The numbers were fine. He didn’t look any deeper because his soul was too agitated (it’d bleed over to her, and he didn’t want her to know what a mess he actually was). But just a cursory glance her soul told him she was alright. 

 

The memories of his human research finally returned. She was breathing normally. The color of her face looked normal. Her brow wasn’t pinched in pain or any other emotion besides that sleepy look everyone got on their face as they snoozed…

 

All these things told him she was fine, but it still wasn’t enough. The feeling squeezing his soul was the same one he got whenever his nightmares were centered around Papyrus. The grief, the anger, the soul-crushing sorrow… they would only go away once he touched his brother and felt the magic in his bones. That or Papyrus would be the one to wake and hold him until he was calm, surrounding him with the warmth of a brave soul.  

 

Sans had gone from being the big brother who comforted his baby bro to being the one who needed comforting. It was one of the biggest jokes of his life. It made him curse the existence of the anomalies, and his weakness in the face of them. 

 

Sans moved closer to the bench, careful not to make too much noise. He knew his actions could be construed as being creepy… but he  _ had _ to know! Frisk’s hands were tucked under her head, so he placed his left hand on her forearm. Her stuff was in the way, again… but he could still feel it. He felt the magic running through her radius and ulna, the vibrations soft and calm in sleep but  _ there _ , making his phalanges tingle just enough. It was final bit of proof he needed.

 

Relief flooded him. Sans let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His right hand covered his eye sockets, just so they didn’t catch anything as he pulled himself together. He told himself, over and over, that it’d been just a dream. It wasn’t a prophecy, and it wasn’t a premonition. It was just his psyche kicking him in the pants, like always. Nothing new. Nothing new at all.

 

The way Frisk was breathing changed, indicating that she was waking up. Sans moved his hand from her forearm to her shoulder, shaking gently as though that was what he’d intended all along. He plastered his usual smile on his face as he brightly said, “ up and at ‘em, kiddo! naptime’s over. ” 

 

Frisk grumbled, just a little, before pushing herself up and off the bench and rubbing her eyes. Sans settled back on his calcanei, retrieving Rockwell from the bench and waiting patiently. Once Frisk was a bit more coherent she slipped her arms out of his coat and handed it to him. She didn’t say a word, but it was clear the kid was taking her time to wake up completely. As he put his coat back on Frisk was combing her hair with her fingers, trying to tame the mess on her head.

 

After some digging in his pockets Sans produced a real comb for her to borrow. She mumbled a soft “thank you” and put it to use. He checked his c-phone while she did. He found that its power crystal died at some point during their excursion.

 

“ uh oh… ” His soft utterance drew Frisk’s attention, making her tilt her head. “ uh… don’t suppose you’ve got your c-phone on you, do ya? ” She nodded, returning his comb before digging around in the beat-up old hip pack she still carried around with her. 

 

“I had to turn it off before you came to see me,” said Frisk. “The notifications from Undernet were becoming a nuisance.” She had the device in her hands before her calm expression gelled into something a bit more incredulous. She looked at him and asked, “Why do  _ you _ have a comb on your person?” 

 

He grinned and winked, running a hand over his skull as though he had hair. “ what, you mean it’s not obvious? ” The truth was he had the comb just to be obnoxious around other skeletons and to confuse everyone else, but he wasn’t about to tell Frisk that. The princess’ stonily neutral expression was in full force. To Sans it looked like she was either going to say he was full of crap, or she’d start laughing. 

 

In the end she just shook her head, making him chuckle. The young royal’s c-phone was finally done booting, only to be flooded with messages. Most were from Undernet, but many were personal messages from her friends and family. Toriel, Alphys, Papyrus… even Asgore and Undyne expressed some degree of worry. In Papyrus’ case he was asking for an update on Sans, as well. 

 

The two of them stared at the c-phone before looking at each other. Frisk was the one to break the silence.

 

“Who do you think I should call, first?”

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

The head of the Royal Guard’s lips were stuck in a half-snarl as she glared at the unfortunate monster before her. Undyne knew patience wasn’t something she’d been gifted with very much of, but she tried. Even when times were trying, she tried. But her well of patience had just run dry, and the skeleton before her was why. 

 

Papyrus stood at attention in front of her desk in her makeshift office on the surface. She left her helmet off so he could see her face, but wore the rest of her suit. He wasn’t in armor because he’d been off-duty for the last few hours, but she’d summoned him anyway. She wanted him to answer for his brother’s actions. She didn’t like the answers she’d gotten.

 

Undyne’s jaw ached with the temptation to grind her teeth together. Her eye gleamed as she spoke through her teeth. “What. D’you mean. By you don’t know?” 

 

Papyrus was sweating a little, but his answer was steady. “ CAPTAIN! I REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT I HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF MY BROTHER’S CURRENT WHEREABOUTS! ALL I AM SURE OF IS THAT THE PRINCESS IS WITH HIM! SO LONG AS SHE IS, SHE WILL BE JUST AS SAFE AS SHE WOULD BE SURROUNDED BY GUARDS! ” 

 

Undyne rose from her desk, hands gripping the sides as she shouted, “I DON’T CARE!!!” She tossed the tiny piece of furniture out of her way, stalking toward Papyrus to shove a finger in his face. “I don’t care that he’s the High Judge! I don’t care how strong he is! I don’t give a single, solitary _damn_ that he could wipe the floor with any of us! HE KIDNAPPED THE PRINCESS!!!” Greater Dog reported the sudden disappearance as soon as he could. Having witnessed one of the judge’s infamous “shortcuts,” it didn’t take an alchemical genius to figure out what Sans had done. 

 

Undyne drew in a deep breath, trying to take a mental step back from her temper. She only managed a half-step, but it was better than nothing. She looked Papyrus in the eye sockets and tersely asked, “Why?”

 

Papyrus’ expression fell, and his tone was subdued. “ ALL THE TALK OF A ROYAL BIRTHDAY PARTY UPSET FRISK. SHE TOLD ME THE HUMANS MADE HER FEEL UNWANTED, AND HER BIRTHDAY ONLY UNDERSCORED THAT FACT. SANS AND I WERE TRYING TO SHOW HER THAT SHE IS VALUED AND LOVED. ”

 

Undyne managed to keep her tone level. “So the box thing was your idea.”

 

Papyrus beamed. “ YES, MA’AM! ”

 

Tone still level, Undyne continued. “And you two thought the best way to show her everyone cared was to be mysterious, scare the punk half to death, then kidnap her. And now, for whatever reason, nobody can reach her OR Sans. Right now they’re goodness-only-knows where, possibly in trouble, with nobody to help them.” 

 

Papyrus started sweating again. “ I’M SURE THEY’RE NOT IN ANY DANGER… ”

 

Undyne shook her head. “Papyrus, it’s our job to assume the worst! It’s our job to be ready for anything! The punk shouldn’t have gotten pranked in the face, but it happened anyway! That could’ve been something dangerous!” She’d spoken with Sorrel and Rochester about it already, but they got the message with far less yelling. This entire incident was only demonstrating how innocent Papyrus was, deep inside, and how he  _ still _ had trouble anticipating the worst. And that was  _ after _ Frisk’s bastard of an uncle nearly killed him!

 

She loved Papyrus, she really did. She loved him as much as anyone could platonically love anybody else. He was a sweet guy, and a good friend. Outside of work he was fun to be around. But right this minute SHE was the captain and HE was her subordinate, and she was Not Happy With Him. Or his brother. She drew in a deep breath, held it for a second, then released it in a roar. 

 

“WHAT WERE YOU BONEHEADS THINKING?!?!” She lunged, ready to give Papyrus the biggest armored noogie of his life when a jaunty little tune jangled away. Undyne froze, recognizing it as some kind of ringtone.

 

“ THAT’S THE PRINCESS! ” Papyrus exclaimed.

 

Growling, Undyne crossed her arms across her breastplate. She said, “Well, what’re you waiting for?! Don’t be rude. And put it on speaker.” If Sans really was nearby she had some choice words for him…

 

Papyrus obeyed. Once the line was open he said, “ GREETINGS, FRISK! DID YOU ENJOY OUR SURPRISE? ”

 

“Hello, Papyrus,” said the princess. “I wanted you to know Sans is fine. We just took a nap after he showed me where the wishing box was.”

 

Papyrus’ jaw dropped. “ YOU BOTH TOOK A NAP?! WHERE?! LET ME SPEAK WITH SANS! WE NEED TO HAVE A DISCUSSION ABOUT INFECTING YOU WITH HIS BAD HABITS! ”

 

Undyne leaned closer to the phone. “Later. You okay, punk?”

 

“Oh! Hello, Undyne. Yes, I’m fine.” She sounded fine, too, making Undyne huff in relief before she spoke again.

 

“Where are you two, now?”

 

“We’re in Waterfall, but we’ll be returning to camp shortly.”

 

Papyrus was incensed. “ YOU WERE NAPPING IN  _ WATERFALL?! _ BROTHER!! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!! WE  _ MUST _ DISCUSS YOUR BAD HABIT OF NAPPING IN STRANGE PLACES! ” 

 

“ okay. ”

 

Undyne and Papyrus almost jumped. Sans’ response had come from the back of the tent, clear as day. They turned in unison to find him standing behind Undyne’s desk (or where it was supposed to be.) Frisk was beside him, still holding her c-phone to her head and looking a bit shocked despite her neutral expression. Undyne was kind of glad she wasn’t the only one still processing the sudden shortcut. Frisk slowly lowered her device and ended the call. Papyrus did the same. Sans was grinning, and it only got wider as all eyes turned on him.

 

“ what? ” he asked with a wink. “ never had people just pop in and say hi? ” 

 

Undyne almost said something  _ extremely _ inappropriate to say in front of a kid. Her hands flexed as though she wanted to just grab that smug little jerk by the neck and  _ shake _ him! But she couldn’t! There were lots of reasons why, but Undyne didn’t bother listing them. There was nothing she could do, unless she felt like losing her job or facing a human determined to protect the bone bag. She was being ignored, anyway, as Sans turned to look at Frisk.

 

“ by the way, kid, ” he said. “ i heard paps ask you a question. don’t think i didn’t notice how you ignored him. that’s just plain rude. ”

 

“ I NOTICED, TOO! ” said Papyrus. “ I THOUGHT IT WAS BECAUSE THE SUBJECT OF THE CONVERSATION WAS DIVERTED TO YOUR NAPPING HABITS! WHICH WE STILL HAVE TO TALK ABOUT, BROTHER! ”

 

“ in a minute, bro. ” Sans turned his attention back to Frisk. “ well, kiddo? what  _ did _ you think of our little surprise? ”

 

Undyne watched the princess as she thought about her response. She always knew that Frisk was a weird kid, but this hesitance to talk about a box? It was beyond weird. 

 

“It was certainly… something else,” Frisk finally said. The smile she gave them looked a little forced. It reminded Undyne of whenever Alphys tried to cover up how nervous she felt with a smile. Frisk’s smile wasn’t as toothy, however, and not nearly as sweaty. It was just a slight upward tilt at the corners of her mouth as her squint crinkled almost imperceptibly.  

 

“‘ somethin’ else’ ” Sans deadpanned. “ that’s all you’ve got to say. ”

 

Frisk nodded. “I’ve never seen it’s like before. To see such kindness from so many complete strangers, all focused on that little box… It’s indescribable.” 

 

The princess’ behavior was starting to get on Undyne’s nerves. “What d’you mean ‘indescribable’?” she asked forcefully. “What’s so weird about people doing something nice?” 

 

Frisk turned toward her, shrugging slightly. “I’ve never seen so many people express sincere good will toward anyone else. It’s not something I’m used to.”

 

Agitation made Undyne clench her fists. “And what is THAT supposed to mean?!” 

 

The human’s shoulders hunched defensively. She didn’t respond quickly enough to satisfy Undyne’s lack of patience. She stalked toward Frisk with a low growl, only for the human to disappear. Confusion made the warrior blink until a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

 

“ easy there, spearfish, ” said Sans. “ no need  **tuna** get all  **puffer-ed** up. to tell ya the  **tooth** , you’re gettin’ a little too  **fang-ry** here. ” 

 

Undyne turned around again to find him and the princess standing near Papyrus. The human was behind the brothers, partially blocked but still in sight. Papyrus was looking rather uncomfortable, caught between his duty, his friendships and his family. Sans was grinning but there was an edge to it that Undyne wasn’t used to seeing, making it look more like a grimace. Though he was winking, his  _ left _ eye was open. His white pupil shone out of it, but the sight still gave Undyne a mild chill on the back of her neck.

 

She’d heard stories about that eye. She was already head of the Royal Guard by the time Sans was elevated to his position, so she never delivered condemned prisoners to him or watched him Fight. But the guards who’d done so liked to talk. The way that eye glowed left an impression on all of them. The general consensus was that they  _ never _ wanted it focused on them, because that would only mean one thing…  

 

Was he seriously pumping himself up to Fight  _ her?!  _ Part of Undyne was ready to shout “bring it!” The more sensible part prevailed, for now, but she was still annoyed. She rolled her eye in exasperation and said, “NGAAH! I wasn’t going to hurt the little twerp! I just want her to look me in the eye and tell me what’s so weird about that stupid box!”

 

Sans frowned, slightly. “ it’s not stupid. we got that wishing box from our granddad. ” 

 

Papyrus straightened his spine and said, “ CAPTAIN, I’M AFRAID I MUST AGREE WITH MY BROTHER! PLEASE DO NOT DENEGRATE OUR FAMILY TRADITION! ” 

 

Undyne huffed. “ _ Fine! _ I’m sorry I called your box stupid. But I still want to know why Frisk is being so weird about it.” Looking behind the brothers she shouted, “Spit it out, already, punk!” All eyes turned upon the princess. 

 

“ she’s got a point, kiddo. you’re bein’ kinda weird about this. ”

 

“ YES! I AM CONCERNED, AS WELL! HAVE WE DONE SOMETHING WRONG? ”

 

Frisk shook her head. “No! Papyrus, Sans, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s just… I don’t… I didn’t do enough to deserve this.” 

 

After a moment of collective staring, Undyne broke the silence. “So you don’t think breaking the barrier is ‘enough’? You don’t think helping out that snooty baron with his new farm so it grows things we can eat is ‘enough’?! You don’t think helping your mom patch people up with bandages and potions after they hurt themselves is ‘ _ enough _ ’? Not to mention getting Sorrel and Rochester together… 

 

“That you don’t think all that is ‘enough’ is the biggest load of  _ CRAP _ I’ve ever heard!!!” Undyne shook her head, jabbing a finger in Frisk’s direction in lieu of tossing spears to get her point across. “You listen to me, punk! Even before the barrier was broken you were doing plenty to get along with us! You were doing so much I thought it was all an act, because I didn’t think humans could be that nice! Well, I was WRONG, okay?! I don’t like being wrong, but I was. I thought I was wrong about you being a coward, too… but you’re being one, again! How the heck can you face me in a Fight, and a killer like your uncle, but not a little bit of kindness?! I don’t get you, at all!!!” 

 

Frisk’s mouth twisted. She looked like she was about to cry, but sucked it up before speaking softly. “I want you to imagine something,” she said. “I want you all to imagine something.

 

“Imagine that you’re in the smallest, darkest, coldest hole you’ve ever been shoved into. You’re completely alone. There is no light. There is no sound. There is no hope. You’re only allowed to leave your hole once every year. For one, brief, glorious moment you can move, and you’re warm. You’re even allowed to embrace the warmth, and you’re held as though you’re dear to it. For a short time you can see how things could be. You get a faint idea of what hope is. Then it’s all torn from your grasp and you’re forced into your little hole, again.”

 

Frisk’s eyes opened fully. The sunset-colored gaze met Undyne’s in something that fell just short of a challenge. “Imagine that happening year, after year, after  _ year _ . It takes you far too long, but you finally accept that the warmth is fake. It stops being so warm, but you’re forced to smile and take it, anyway. Whenever your thoughts dwell on the ‘why’ of everything your chest aches, stabbed by your own emotions.  _ Nobody _ cares that you’re in pain. You’re never going to meet people who give a damn, so it becomes a habit to keep it all inside. It makes you feel colder, but who cares? Certainly nobody you know. You stop hoping someone will. 

 

“Did you imagine it all? Well,  _ that _ was my life, before I came to Mount Ebott.”

 

Frisk shook her head. “If I’m ‘being nice’, I’m just behaving in a manner opposite of what I’ve always known. That someone may want to do something nice for me is a foreign concept I have trouble comprehending. I accept their kindness with a smile, anyway, because I know how to do that much. But knowing a significant number of people want to be genuinely nice is completely alien to everything I’ve known before, and beyond comprehension. I just…” Frisk shook her head, again, her eyes falling to the ground as she tried to find the words.

 

“I’ve never known anything like it!” she finally exclaimed. “I have no comparison. I don’t know how to respond! I…” Her eyes closed, and she clutched her locket. “I don’t deserve this much kindness when I can’t return it. I never learned how. It scares me that I can’t. I’m scared of what will happen if I never figure it out. I don’t want to be alone, again. Just the thought…” She shivered as she trailed off.

 

Papyrus was shocked into stillness, jaw hanging open. Sans was equally still, with eye sockets dark. Undyne pinched the space between her eyes, finally getting an idea of what was really going on here.

 

“So, you think we’re going to treat you the same way the humans did?” she asked, eye closed. “Or, what? That we’d abandon you over some stupid thing?” She snapped her eye open and lunged forward with another growl, grabbing Frisk by the front of her sweater before Sans or Papyrus could react. Frisk grabbed her wrist as she got in the human’s face and shouted, “AS IF! You’re one of us now, whether you like it or not! If you EVER get shoved in a hole again, I’ll personally drag you out of it! You can kick and scream all you want, but you’re not staying in that pit any more than  _ we _ would! You hear me!?” Looking into Frisk’s stunned eyes, she said, “You’re not alone, anymore, so stop acting like you are!”

 

Frisk and Alphys were so alike, sometimes! Always trying to tackle things on their own when then had friends right  _ there!  _ Friends like her that  _ wanted _ to help! It was enough to make her want to smash something with her bare hands! Preferably a certain human male’s face!

 

As those pleasant little thoughts crossed her mind Undyne watched Frisk. She could see the change in Frisk’s expression as her words started sinking in. Hands that gripped her wrist out of a survival reflex relaxed. Even when the princess started squinting again, she couldn’t quite rid herself of the dumbfounded look. It made Undyne sigh as she released Frisk from her grip. She said, “Do me a favor, would you, punk? Stop comparing us to humans. We’re not them, and they aren’t us.” 

 

“I…” Frisk’s voice was a little husky, and she cleared her throat softly before trying to speak again. “I’m sorry, Undyne. I’ll try.”

 

A yellow eye rolled skyward. “Don’t try, just DO it! Get it through your thick little skull that people are gonna be nice to you because they wanna be!” She used both hands to rough up the princess’s hair in a double-fisted noogie as she said, “That’s what! Friends! Are for! You little! Nerd!” Each sentence was punctuated with a twist of her wrists, making Frisk squeak a little each time. Good! Maybe a headache would help everything else sink in a little better. 

 

Once the noogie session ended, Frisk turned to Papyrus. Her hair was a funny mess, but her expression was serious. “I owe you an apology as well,” she said. “You and my mother told me I wasn’t alone, but I guess it didn’t take…”

 

“ FRISK… ” Papyrus knelt down, putting himself closer to Frisk’s level as he put his hands on her shoulders. His voice was soft and gentle as he continued. “ I think I understand. You’ve been alone for a very long time.  You’ve only recently gained friends. It can be somewhat hard to believe your good fortune at finding great people like myself suddenly giving you so much attention! And many more people that may not be quite so great, as well. ” He raised a brow ridge at his brother. Sans shrugged when Frisk followed the gaze, unable to argue. “ Anyway, my point is that it’s only natural to be overwhelmed by it all. That makes it easy to forget things you’ve learned recently. I won’t deny that makes me a little sad… but I know you didn’t mean to do it! It’s hardly your fault that you were treated so poorly for so long your expectations are completely askew! ”

 

“ look at it this way, kid. ” Both Frisk and Papyrus looked at Sans as he interjected himself into the conversation. “ you’ve learned to deal with things on your own over the course of thirteen years. that’s a long time to get into the habit of keepin’ to yourself. you’ve been living among us for a little over a month. all things considered, you’ve already come a long way. you’ve still got a lot to learn about us, and we’ve got a lot to learn about you. that’s what friends are, kiddo; learning experiences. ” He winked. “ you like learning stuff, don’tcha? ” 

 

Frisk thought about it, for a second, then nodded firmly. Undyne recognized the look on the princess’ face. It was the same one she had when she stepped forward for their Fight. She was filled with determination. Seeing that made the warrior grin.

 

“Okay, okay!” said Undyne, still smiling. “If this little mush-fest is over, it’s time for the princess to go home.” She put two fingers to her mouth and whistled. The sound pierced the air, and even once it ended it still somehow echoed. 

 

Clanking footsteps approached in a haste-driven pace, stopping right outside the captain’s tent. A yip announced the arrival of Greater Dog, who was granted permission to enter. Upon setting his eyes on the princess he picked her up and hugged her, whining as he licked and sniffed her face. If he’d bothered to crawl out of his armor Undyne knew the little guy’s tail would’ve been wagging a mile a minute. As the princess assured him she was fine with laughs and pets, Undyne looked at Sans and spoke.

 

“Listen here, Your Honor,” she said, knowing he didn’t like formality, “next time you want to borrow the princess, at least tell us where you’re going. I know you’re strong, and all, but you’re still just one guy. It wouldn’t hurt to keep us in the loop, where she’s concerned. It’s kind of our job to make sure she’s okay, and that she  _ stays _ that way.”

 

He waved a hand dismissively at her. “ fine, fine, don’t get your undies in a knot. ” Undyne’s face twitched, wondering if he just made a pun using her name, but wasn’t given a chance to call him out on it. He was already walking to the tent’s flap as he said, “ i’m goin’ to grillby’s. you comin’ with, kid? ” 

 

Still wrapped in Greater Dog’s armored arms, Frisk shook her head. “I should go straight home,” she said. “I think I’ve worried Mother enough.”

 

“ fair enough. see ya back home, bro. ”

 

“ BROTHER! DON’T FORGET ABOUT OUR DISCUSSION! ” Sans waved at Papyrus over his shoulder, but Frisk got Greater Dog to cease his affections long enough to stop him.

 

“Wait! Before you go…” All eyes turned to her, and she asked her guard to put her on the ground. Once on her own two feet, she said to Undyne, “My birthday is three months from now, on the fifteenth.” She smiled, though it was a bit off-kilter. “I think that’s a bit long for the wishing box to sit in the middle of New Home. If someone could collect it and… all the other things, I would appreciate it. The box should be returned to its rightful owners, as well.”

 

Undyne nodded, saying she’d arrange for someone to go get it all. After that the meeting broke up. Sans left, and Greater Dog shadowed Frisk as she returned to Toriel. Papyrus left to go recalibrate some puzzles he’d made to help with the camp’s security, leaving Undyne alone. 

 

With a sigh she righted her desk. Paperwork was hellishly boring, but it was an important part of being head of the Royal Guard. At least yelling at a bunch of boneheads had been a nice break. Undyne sat in her chair, ready to buckle down… only for a whoopee cushion to announce itself beneath her. Her eye twitched violently and her teeth ground together.

 

The cushion never stood a chance.

* * *

 


	20. Stay Door-termined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Frisk's turn to start dreaming...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this update, we're now completely caught up with what I have posted on Fanfiction.net! Updates from now on will be weekly on Tuesday (or Wednesday, if I forget) around 6pm-7pm (US Pacific time). At least until I run out of buffer chapters. XP

* * *

 

_ “Oh, hey! So I’ve been reading a lot about philosophy, and it got me thinking… Consider the two sides of a coin. Are they aware of each other? Do they WANT to be aware of each other? What would the space in between look like to them? Would they be able to meet there, in a dream?”  _ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

 

**Chapter 19: Stay Door-termined**

 

As relieved as Toriel had been to know her daughter was fine, she still grounded Frisk for three days. Although leaving the tent had not been Frisk’s idea, she should have known to turn on her c-phone if she was going somewhere with Sans. For that matter, she was not supposed to leave camp, at all! But if she was going to do so, anyway, she should have told someone she’d be going out, and who she would be with. 

 

Frisk should have known better. Hence, she was not allowed to leave the tent without Toriel, and had her c-phone privileges revoked for the duration of her grounding. Frisk did not seem very bothered by that aspect of the punishment. In fact, she seemed somewhat relieved as she handed the device over. When Sans dropped by for tea the day after he absconded with Frisk, Toriel had some rather pointed words for him, as well. 

 

Once properly chastised, Toriel had been more than happy to return to their usual joke exchange. It took Sans a few minutes to hit his stride, but she pretended not to notice. Frisk sat upon her sleeping bag, laughing every now at then and occasionally making contributions, but she mostly concentrated upon her sewing project for “Flowey.”

 

It was sweet of Frisk to worry about it, but did a flower truly need a scarf? She was such a quirky child.

 

The only good thing about the entire ordeal was that she seemed more comfortable within her own skin. Toriel noticed Frisk had a tendency to seek distraction, in some form. Reading a book, doing her homework, volunteering for chores… If a wind-up toy’s inner workings malfunctioned, she would take them apart in an attempt to fix them (many times with success). Frisk sought anything that would keep her from dwelling upon her own thoughts, and understandably so. 

 

But when she returned she seemed… different. She looked the same as she ever did, and still preferred to stay busy, but there was something about the way she carried herself that changed. It was as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. That, or she no longer expected the world to deal her a blow and no longer prepared herself to endure it. Whatever the case, it warmed Toriel’s soul to see the change.

 

Sans was coy about what he’d done to ease Frisk’s worries, giving most of the credit to Undyne’s impassioned speech about friendship (which, due to the volume she delivered her speech in, had spread through camp, easily). According to him, he merely took Frisk to a quiet place for a late afternoon nap, which came after a grand jape involving a wishing box inherited from his grandfather. 

 

Toriel had forgotten such things were once part of their culture. The last time she utilized one had been while Asriel and Chara lived… and those bittersweet memories were probably why she put wishing boxes out of her mind. Especially as she allowed child after child to slip through her grasp…

 

She tried not to let such thoughts mire her, for Frisk’s sake. Instead she thanked Sans for reminding everyone of the sentimental tradition. Again he was coy, saying it had been Papyrus’ idea. All he’d done was move the box around and make some posts on Undernet.

 

Toriel learned something new about her friend, that day; first, that he was determined to stay out of the spotlight, no matter how much credit he was due. And, judging from the embarrassed cast to the magic staining his cheekbones as he credited others, he was flustered by praise. It was an endearing quality, though a peer as highly ranked as he should have been more accustomed to receiving it. Then again, most nobles she’d known would not have taken up permanent residence as far away from the capital as possible. 

 

The house where the Gaster Brothers had lived in Snowdin was once Rockwell’s vacation home. It had been his retreat from his responsibilities as High Judge, something he sometimes needed quite badly even before… things went wrong. However, as much as he needed to retreat, his permanent residence had always been the capital. Be it Home or New Home, Duke Asterisk was never far from its heart. 

 

Or rather, the “Old Duke”, as Rockwell was now known. He’d held the title for so long people felt a need to differentiate him from his successor. Sans said he didn’t mind, because he  _ was _ different from his grandfather, despite all the ways he’d followed in Rockwell’s footsteps. It was curious, how he preferred to keep the general public from connecting the title to him, but Toriel didn’t manage to ask him about it before the topic shifted away from himself.

 

Sans, still blushing, asked her how construction on the new house for herself and Frisk was coming along. It was a more blatant change of subject than usual, but Toriel allowed it, figuring he’d been flustered enough for one day. She told him the plans had been finalized, and construction would begin once the foundations were laid. 

 

She worried that things were proceeding too quickly, remembering how hastily Home had been built (and the later problems which arose because of it), but the people heading the construction projects knew what they were about. The head foreman had actually  _ slowed _ progress, for the sake of double-checking all the architectural plans and ensuring as few mishaps happened as possible. There was little Toriel could fault in that.

 

After a pun-filled afternoon Sans took his leave. He paused for a moment to ruffle Frisk’s hair before exiting, which the girl ignored due to her trance-like focus on her project. Toriel managed to snap her out of it so she and Frisk could perform chores around camp together. Afterward they had a nice, peaceful dinner before bidding each other goodnight.

 

That night was the first time Toriel ever saw her child have a nightmare. 

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Frisk murmured loudly enough in her sleep to wake Toriel, who grew concerned as the dream continued. It sounded like she was trying to say something, or perhaps protest, but the words weren’t forming properly. Her limbs dragged on the ground in sluggish movements. Her brow was pinched, and her eyes moved beneath their lids in sweeps and flicks. But none of that concerned Toriel as much as what came when she woke Frisk.

 

She moved to Frisk’s side to awaken the child as the dream refused to end. When she gave the girl a gentle nudge Frisk’s eyes snapped open with a half-startled grunt. Her irises glowed as red as her soul, staring sightlessly at Toriel. The darkness of the tent only made the glow all the more frightening. 

 

Toriel’s heart plunged as she called out. “My child, are you well? Are you hurt? Please, answer me!”

 

Frisk said nothing, but the glow faded as her eyes closed. Her entire body stilled and relaxed as she fell back into sleep’s embrace, leaving Toriel confused. After checking for injury and finding none she tucked her child back in, watching her sleep for a moment. Frisk seemed to be at peace so Toriel returned to her sleeping bag, though sleep itself eluded her for quite some time.

 

When they awoke the next morning she asked Frisk about her nightmare. The child said she did not have one, and was amazed that she’d woken up at all. She did not remember opening her eyes, nor did she feel that much magic coursing through her, again. But she said she felt fine, and there was no need to schedule an appointment to see Dr. Flat. Toriel tried to leave it at that, but the worry was difficult to push aside. 

 

She continued to watch Frisk for signs of distress, but there were none throughout the day. They even made it through another magic lesson without incident. Frisk proved she could summon something besides “remembered” spear bullets by instead manifesting fire magic similar to hers and Asgore’s. Frisk seemed proud of herself and, though Toriel was proud of her as well, she would have been  _ more _ proud if Frisk had properly expressed her own soul, rather than her memories of how another’s magic felt when utilized against her.

 

That night Frisk had another nightmare as she lay upon her side, facing Toriel. This time, however, her eyes opened before her mother had a chance to rise. Toriel lay upon her back, her head turned toward Frisk as those glowing irises moved, looking around the tent without moving Frisk’s head. Their eyes met and, for a long moment, Toriel felt like she was looking at someone else. Someone heart-achingly familiar, and long-gone. The moment passed once Frisk’s eyes stopped glowing and closed, falling back asleep. 

 

The next morning Frisk still claimed to remember nothing, and still displayed no sign of the magic hurting her. Which was odd, because she’d certainly been hurt the last time she glowed like this! 

 

Toriel grew concerned enough speak with Sans. He also confessed to feeling like someone else was looking out of Frisk’s eyes the first time it happened. He suggested the feeling might have been because it was so unusual to see a non-skeleton’s eyes glow in such a manner. It was not uncommon for a Boss Monster’s eyes to gleam in a particular way, but having the entire iris illuminate was a unique characteristic of skeletonkind. It simply raised more questions on what was happening to Frisk. 

 

Sans said he would speak with Alphys and Dr. Flat on the matter. He said Alphys had been working on a new diagnostic tool which could monitor Frisk’s magic “in real-time”, letting them see how it flowed through her over the course of a few minutes, rather than taking a snapshot of it at any given second. He assured her that it would be a non-invasive procedure, and she believed him. She just worried Alphys would go overboard in her attempts to “help” Frisk, the way she had with her human soul research. 

 

After a third nightmare Frisk didn’t remember, however, Toriel decided something had to be done. The last one had to be the most disturbing, because Frisk smiled in a peculiar manner as she slept. It wasn’t her normal smile, and the glowing only made the sense of wrongness intensify before the expression and magic faded. 

 

Frisk remained unaware of the events as they happened. Toriel made an appointment for the in-depth examination to take place as soon as practicable.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Frisk stood in the same darkness that surrounded her before her fight with Flowey. She figured she was having yet another lucid dream, the fourth one in a row. She’d been coming here a great deal, lately. 

 

Her mother told her of the things that’d been happening while she slept… but she was always  _ here  _ when they happened, wherever “here” was. She was never in distress, never trying to fight or escape. She simply stood or sat in the dark, waiting for the dream to end. Trying to wake herself up the first time didn’t work, so she quickly learned not to bother. If she got bored she would walk around for a while, or doodle onto the “floor” using her magic pencils (since she was dreaming, she could make different colored pencils.) 

 

However, this time she could see something besides her own body. This dream was the first time she faced a choice. The words “continue” and “true reset” floated before her, just like whenever she had to choose between fighting and showing mercy. Frisk chose “continue,” but she didn’t wake up right away.

 

She had to admit, if only to herself, that she was curious about what the “true reset” was. But, according to Flowey, being hauled back in time to her last recorded memory was a “reset,” like knocking over dominos only to set them back up. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know what adding the word “true” to it meant. 

 

She sat upon the “floor” and waited for the dream to end, wishing she could talk to Flowey more. The fact that she was grounded meant she couldn’t sneak away for a chat with her friend, and she didn’t have enough privacy to talk through the wall while he sat outside to bask in the sun. Not with her mother watching her like a hawk. The guards watching her every move made talking to him difficult enough! And-

 

The sound of rushing air intruded her thoughts, making Frisk turn away from the options floating before her. Doors had appeared, lining up on either side of her to form a corridor. 

 

* _ Well, this is new _ , Frisk thought to herself as one eyebrow rose. Looking around, she saw that nothing else had appeared, or disappeared. Figuring that she was still dreaming she shrugged to herself and rose to inspect the doors.

 

Many of the first she came across looked familiar. They bore a resemblance to the doorways she crossed every day in her waking life. The flap of her tent, Sans and Papyrus’ temporary home, and Grillby’s were all present, among others. Many of the doors were open, allowing her to view scenery that played like the “videos” on Undernet. 

 

Except… it wasn’t “scenery” at all, but memories she held of particular days. Farther down the corridor the doors changed to resemble what she’d seen in the Underground. The arch leading to the surface, her bedroom in the castle, the Last Corridor… They and the memories went farther and farther back until the very first archway whose threshold she crossed, all the way back in the Ruins.

 

The corridor went further. Frisk saw doors from her uncle’s ranch. Most notable were the basement door and the one to the stable. They were all closed tight. She hurried past them, only to walk amongst the doors of the Kane Estate. She thought she’d never see them again, and they were shut just as tightly as the ranch’s. After deciding she’d seen enough she turned to walk back to the floating buttons, only to run face-first into a brick wall. Her nose stung a bit…

 

As she rubbed her aching face Frisk’s bad feeling grew. Was she supposed to be able to feel pain in a dream? She didn’t think that was supposed to happen. She supposed it was possible the book she’d read on the subject was based on mistaken or outright false information, but she couldn’t dwell on that right now. It seemed like the only way she could go was forward… 

 

Trepidation shortened her stride as she clutched her locket. She walked past the doors, not wanting to open them. They had to be closed for a reason, seeing as how the doors resembling things back at camp were all open. If they led to memories there was no point in forcing herself to remember something. 

 

Farther and farther she went, trying to ignore the darkness. It wasn’t  _ really _ trying to crawl across her skin with icy fingers. The dark wasn’t  _ really _ trying to smother her. She was just dreaming! This was all in her head. Frisk told herself that over and over until she came to the last door.

 

It was the double-door to her human parent’s garden. Though paned with glass, She couldn’t see through it. Only more blackness lay beyond. At a guess, based upon how far she’d traveled through her memories, this was probably the very first one. 

 

Looking over her shoulder Frisk could see that the brick wall had followed her, silently blocking the path back and to all the other doors. It was as though her mind was telling her this was something she needed to see. Something she  _ needed _ to remember. 

 

* _ No turning back. You might as well open it _ , Frisk thought to herself, though it felt strangely detached. Like the thought had been whispered into her ear, rather than originating from her mind. It was a bit concerning, but Frisk felt like she didn’t have a choice. She’d become completely unnerved by the dark and didn’t want to sit on the floor for however long it took until she woke up. She reached for the handles…

 

…but they turned without her having to touch it. The doors spread open, sunlight pouring through the crack and blinding her as the smell of apples hit the back of her throat. 

 

She  _ remembered _ …

* * *

 

 


	21. Dream in a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Frisk does not have fun...

* * *

 

_ Francine once shared a painful memory with Manuela. She would later find a modified version of it in Francine’s outline, after her passing. Manuela wept for her friend as she wrote… _

 

**Chapter 20: Dream in a Dream**

 

_ Mommy said she had to go outside while she and Daddy talked. Francine wanted to stay because she hardly ever saw Daddy, but she didn’t like how loud her parents got when they talked, so she let Nanny lead her to the garden.  _

 

_ Outside was a little bit cold. There was hardly any green, now. Everything was orange and yellow and brown. Francine was proud of herself for learning the names of the colors. She could even write them out! Nanny told her few children her age could do that. But Nanny wasn’t talking to her, right now.  _

 

_ Nanny let go of her hand to talk to Gardener. Francine got bored while the grown-ups smiled and laughed, so she left Nanny’s side to run up to the tree and get a better look up at the branches. There were a bunch of red things… _

 

_ Oh! They were apples! What were they doing up in the tree? Silly apples. Francine tried to reach for one, to see how it was holding on to the tree, but she just couldn’t get one, no matter how far she stretched her arms. Come to think of it, didn’t Mommy like apples? She should get one as a present! _

 

_ Francine looked back at Nanny. She and Gardener were still talking. Their faces were getting close to each other, and Nanny’s face was almost as red as the apples. Francine called her, but she wasn’t paying attention… _

 

_ Francine pouted, but she was used to being ignored. She didn’t  _ really _ need Nanny. She was a big girl, and she could get an apple all by herself! She looked back up at the tree and reached…  _

 

_ This time the apples got closer. She pulled one of the bigger ones off a branch. Her chest felt like a feather as she laughed. She did it! The apple was bigger than both of her hands. Mommy was going to love this one! It smelled really yummy… _

 

“Oh my god! _ Miss Kane what are you doing?!”  _

 

_ Francine looked down at Nanny, who finally stopped talking to come over to the tree. Francine held up her prize and said, “Look! Apple!”  _

 

_ Nanny nodded, smiling and somehow not smiling at the same time. “Yes, that’s an apple. I can see that, Miss Kane, but just… Just come down, now, alright? I’ll catch you, so please come down.” She held out her arms as though to pick Francine up, still not-smiling.  _

 

_ Confused by the not-smile, Francine wasn’t sure if she wanted to get any closer. What did “catch” mean? But Nanny said “please,” so she had to. She turned her body toward Nanny and focused on her. She had to go to Nanny… _

 

_ Arms wrapped around her. Nanny was shaking as she said, “Oh thank god… Miss Kane you can’t be doing that! You could have been hurt if you stopped floating, all of a sudden!” _

 

_ “Frrr… foo-oat-een?” Francine knew a lot of words for a girl her age but not all of them. And some were still hard to pronounce. Mommy said it was because she was a baby, but she wanted to be a big girl! Mommy said she’d spend more time with her when she was bigger! She wanted to see Mommy more…  _

 

_ “What are you doing?” _

 

_ Nanny gasped, turning around to face Mommy as she walked toward them. Francine was put down on the ground so Nanny could curtsey. Francine smiled as she ran up to Mommy, holding out the apple to her. _

 

_ “For you!” she said happily.  _

 

_ But Mommy didn’t smile. She looked down her nose at Francine, whose smile faded as she started to feel bad. Why wasn’t Mommy happy? Didn’t she like presents? Mommy focused on Nanny and said, “What are you doing, picking apples for my daughter? You know her appetite will be spoiled.” _

 

_ Nanny was looking down at her feet. Mommy didn’t like it when the help looked at her. “I-I-I… I’m sorry, Madam. It w-won’t happen again…” _

 

_ Mommy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re fired. Pack your things and leave this house. I will not have liars living under my roof.” _

 

_ Nanny looked at her, eyes wide and sad. “What did I lie about? I swear I won’t spoil the little miss’s appetite again!” _

 

_ Mommy not-smiled. “You are lying by insinuating that  _ you _ picked the apple when I just watched the girl pick it herself. And don’t think I don’t know what’s going on between you and the gardener. You know the servants of this house are forbidden to form such… relationships. So leave. Now. Before I have you thrown out. And as for  _ you _ …”  _

 

_ Francine was scared as Mommy turned angry eyes on her. Her chest felt tight and it was like her insides were being poked all over by the rose bush. She tried to offer the apple again but her hands were hit and it fell to the ground. Mommy’s hand wrapped around her arm. She was being pulled as they walked quickly back to the house. Francine eyes started burning because her arm was up high and it hurt, but they didn’t stop.  _

 

_ “You’ve always been an unnatural little freak, but this time you’ve gone too far,” Mommy said. “Floating in the air in front of god and everybody… You’re just lucky I know how to snuff this nonsense out of you! Otherwise this charade would end and then where would I be? You’re the only reason I get to keep the position I have, and I will  _ not _ let you ruin it!” _

 

_ She didn’t understand. What did she do wrong? Francine just wanted to know why apples were in a tree and give one to Mommy, but now Mommy was mad and her arm hurt! She sobbed and was shaken for it, making her shoulder hurt, too. _

 

_ “Stop that, right now! For the love of god, grow up already.” _

 

_ They were at the stairs. Mommy opened the little door that went under them. She pushed Francine inside the little room, finally letting go of her arm and allowing her fall onto the hard floor. Her knees hit first, then the rest. Francine managed to get her arms under herself before her face met the floor. Before she could get back on her feet Mommy was talking. _

 

_ “You’re staying in here until you learn your lesson. I never want to see you floating, again.” _

 

_ What did that word  _ mean? _ “Fwoh-teen?” _

 

_ Mommy covered her eyes with a hand. “Of course you don’t understand.” She sighed. “You know what ‘up’ means, yes?” Francine nodded. “Well then, up is bad. Say it.” _

 

_ “Up is… bad?”  _

 

_ “Again.” _

 

_ “Up is bad?” _

 

_ “ _ Again. _ ”  _

 

_ “Up is bad.” _

 

_ “Good. Now think about what you’ve done.” _

 

_ The door closed, leaving the room even darker than nighttime. Francine still didn’t understand. She hurt. The floor was cold. Mommy was mad because Francine tried to give her a present but  _ why? _ Was it because it was an apple? What was “floating?” She still didn’t know what that was!  _

 

_ Francine got to her feet. She stood before the door. Everything hurt, inside and out. “Mommy…?” She reached up high, even though it hurt, to try and turn the knob but it didn’t want to move.  _

 

_ “Mommy!” She was getting scared. She pounded her hands on the door and kept calling but nobody let her out.  _

 

_ She cried until she got a headache, but nobody came.  _

 

_ She became cold and started shivering, but nobody came.  _

 

_ After what felt like a long time her tummy started rumbling… _

 

_ …but nobody came. _

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

The door creaked open and Francine -Frisk, her name was  _ Frisk! _ \- threw herself back out into the corridor. She still felt sick, and cold, and she was crying, again. She huddled on the floor as she tried to stop, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop because she  _ remembered _ . 

 

That had been the first time she’d been punished, but it hadn’t been the last. Not until she learned what the word “floating” meant, and how she felt inside her chest when she did it. The only way to stop it from happening was to weigh down her feelings and stop being happy. After denying herself happiness for a while it became hard to feel much of anything. 

 

She hid what few feelings she had left behind a face of stone, her first line of defense. She stopped letting herself hope for better days. While her inner wall made it difficult to be compassionate some would slip through the cracks, for what little good it did. But that eventually dried up, too. 

 

In the end all she was left with was a will to live. Not because of, or for the sake of anyone else, but to spite those who never wished her life in the first place. It wasn’t a  _ good _ reason to live, but she didn’t want to roll over and die merely because someone else wanted her dead.

 

Remembering the way she used to be hurt. Living amongst the monsters had rekindled things she’d thought long lost, and it hurt to relive memories she never wanted to have. Frisk’s chest ached and she wished her horrible dream would end. 

 

She wanted her mother. Her  _ real _ mother, the one that truly cared about her. She wanted a hug with enough soothing intent behind it to melt this pain away. She wanted to go  _ home! _

 

Frisk pushed herself up off the floor and slapped her own cheeks, hard. She  _ had _ to wake up! She pinched and pinched and  _ pinched _ , but nothing was working. She cajoled and castigated herself, but still the dream went on. 

 

She was alone in darkness just as cold as that tiny closet. As she began to panic the back of her mind whispered to her, again.

 

* _ You are alright. You are going to be fine,  _ it said. * _ Despite everything you are still you. Despite everything your parents did eliminate the magic within you it remains. You are stronger than they ever knew. You are stronger than YOU know. But you must permit yourself to feel it. _

 

“Why?” asked Frisk. She ignored the quavering of her own voice as she said, “Why did I have to remember that? Why did you  _ make _ me remember? What purpose could remembering possibly serve?!” After a moment of what could only be called shocked silence, the back of her mind answered her.

 

* _ It was… necessary. Your subconscious suppressed your magic because of what that woman did to you. Now you remember why. Now you can reach your full potential sooner. _

 

“Why is that so important?” The back of her mind didn’t answer, and Frisk continued. “Why would I want to use those bullets, again? The pencils… and especially those knives! I didn’t truly feel like I was in my own mind, right then. Why would I want my soul to feel that way, again? Why would I want to put my  _ family _ through something like my hospital stay, again?

 

The back of her mind remained silent, and Frisk raised her face to the ceiling (if there was one) to interrogate the dark. “Flowey told me about how his best friend used red knife magic and kept it secret. Why would my soul be doing the same thing when we’re different people? Why is it that, whenever Flowey speaks his best friend’s name it’s covered up with mine? It happened as I watched those old recordings of Asriel and his friend, too!”

 

Frisk bared her teeth as she shouted, “How!? What force could possibly do that to my perception?  _ Who are you?! _ ” 

 

Frisk huffed, catching her breath after her outburst. She didn’t know if she’d get an answer but there’d been far too many questions in her mind to ignore any longer. She had no patience left for ignorance after her own memories tried to flay her soul until it was raw and bleeding. 

 

A soft sigh came from somewhere behind Frisk. “That crybaby could never keep his mouth shut for long. I suppose covering up my name was too obvious. But I had a reason for that.”

 

Frisk looked down, seeing that the corridor had disappeared, leaving her near the two floating buttons. She turned around to find a child standing in the dark behind her, just as visible as she was despite the lack of light. 

 

They couldn’t have been more than ten or eleven years old, with brown hair and reddish-brown eyes half-hidden by their straight-cut bangs. Their complexion was fairer than her own, with a light dusting of color on their cheeks that didn’t seem to be caused by any emotion they may have been feeling. The clothing they wore was similar to her own, except the base color of their sweater was dark green with a pale yellow stripe, and it wasn’t a turtleneck like hers. Their gold locket was formed in the shape of a monster’s soul, just as Frisk’s was the opposite shape. 

 

The apparition looked down at her, smiling in an almost friendly manner as they said, “Greetings. It is nice to finally meet you. My name is Chara.”

* * *

 


	22. Arguing With... Yourself?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation is held.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I started writing this chapter with the idea that Flowey had adopted his mannerisms from Chara, and was writing them the way Flowey speaks at the beginning of the game. Because I've never played the Geno route and have no clue. And then [ this post schooled me on how they canonically speak.](https://deku-lily.tumblr.com/post/177756607812/charas-speech) So I had to start over in this chapter AND the next. Yes, I realize I'm still probably doing it wrong. XP

* * *

 

_“If the two sides of the coin ever met… what would they do? What would they say to one another? Would they be friendly… or not?”_

 

_“I don’t know. Would they? And what does this have to do with the story?”_

 

_“…nothing. It was just something I was thinking about.”_

 

_“…okay.”_ -Francine I. Kane and Manuela Sanchez, 201X-

 

**Chapter 21: Arguing With… Yourself?**

 

Frisk stared at the apparition before her, struggling to comprehend what had just transpired. Chara still smiled, seemingly amused by her shock. When they spoke their tone was chiding and yet flat at the same time.

 

“Come now. Asriel’s memories survived… Of course mine would as well.”

 

Frisk didn’t know what to make of Chara, but what they said made sense, in a way. After all, a good deal of the determination the two of them shared would have come from Chara in the first place, despite the way Asriel won the struggle to control their body in the end. But if Chara was here, in the place that led her to her memories…

 

“When I fell, after Undyne destroyed that bridge… that was your memory, wasn’t it?” asked Frisk. Chara’s smile fell, but they nodded.

 

“It was,” they said. “Only recently have I been able to reach you in this manner. Previously I was stuck in the shadows of your mind. I was unable to speak to you directly. But death brought you closer to me. Whenever it did I would share my memories with you.”

 

“Were you superimposing my name over yours when you did that?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why? Was it to make me think someone was helping me?”

 

“It was not like that. I WAS helping you. But yes. That was one reason.”

 

Chara sat on the ground a few feet away from Frisk, crossing their legs as their smile returned. They sounded almost excited as they said, “I have been observing you since you fell into the Underground. You appear to be sensitive to the determination of others. You can ‘hear’ it in a manner similar to how monsters feel one another’s souls… in addition to that particular ability. The more intent they bear the stronger you feel it. That is why you remember Boss Monster attacks so intimately. I have been calling that power ‘memory mimicry.’”

 

They started beaming, though their tone of voice brightened only slightly. “It is unprecedented! You balance magic and determination almost perfectly! Just imagine all the possibilities at your fingertips once you master them. No one will be able to hurt you ever again. Would that not be grand?”

 

Frisk didn’t answer. Something was… off, about Chara. Frisk’s ability to discern lies from truth was detecting truth, but… It was like talking with Sans, in a way. He said a great deal, and yet said hardly anything at the same time. He lied by omission, just as Frisk did… and as Chara was doing.

 

“How are you here?” she asked them. “Where are we? What do you want from me?”

 

That peculiar smile was still in place as Chara tilted their head, slightly. “You are FILLED with questions. But your mind would not be filled with knowledge if you were not curious.”

 

Frisk bristled, a little. “How do _you_ know that?”

 

Chara shrugged nonchalantly. “When I awoke, I was attached to the determination in your soul. Because it can be ‘shared’. The ‘soul and the ‘mind are closely linked. Once I realized I was not in my own body I stayed with your boxes.” They chuckled, slightly. “They are more like filing cabinets. Very organized. They make it easy to find certain things.”

 

Frisk felt her face hardened and she tensed. As she began to feel utterly violated Chara held up their hands in a placating gesture.

 

“There is no need for that,” they said too calmly. “I did not have a choice in this. No more than you. Imagine waking up in a stranger’s house. You are locked inside. Of COURSE you would snoop around to find a way out.”

 

Frisk opened her eyes, glaring as she said, “I would have picked the lock and left, by now.”

 

Chara laughed, sounding amused but not deeply so. “If that was an option I would have done so already.” They sobered, a hard-to-read expression flickering behind their smile as they said, “Besides… you are interesting… for a human.”

 

Frisk kept her eyes open, but the rest of her face settled into neutrality. Her voice was deadpan as she said, “If you expect me to feel flattered, I’m afraid I must disappoint you.” Chara only shrugged, again.

 

“That is why I tried to keep you ignorant of my presence,” they said. “You are a very private person. Despite your loneliness. Given everything you have endured that is understandable. I know what it is like.”

 

“Duly noted.” The sense of wrongness lingered, despite Chara’s friendly behavior. Frisk tried to get the conversation back on track. “Where are we? Am I dead… again?”

 

Chara shook their head and said, “This is not where we go when we die. It is… a place to one side of that. I think. Closer to home but nowhere near it.”

 

Frisk blinked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“I know,” Chara said manner-of-factly. “It was something I found written in a strange coded journal one day.” Frisk made a face at them, and they shrugged again. “You already know I like to snoop. You have done the same. Do not be a hypocrite.” Before Frisk could feel offended, Chara waved their hand in an airy, dismissive gesture. “Moving on…    

 

“Mr. and Mrs. Dreemurr left me and Asriel in Duke Asterisk’s care one night. The old Duke. We were at his house and he let us go through his personal library. I found a journal written in strange handwriting. It belonged to a skeleton named ‘Marlett Corinthians’. I believe they were the Royal Alchemist before the monsters were trapped. That or shortly thereafter.

 

“Fortunately there was also a book on the different skeleton alphabets. I used it to translate. Much of it was alchemy-related nonsense. But it also spoke of something Doctor Corinthians called ‘The Edge.’”

 

Intrigued in spite of herself, Frisk asked, “The edge… of what?”

 

Chara was perfectly serious as they said, “Of everything.” After a short pause to let that sink in, Chara expanded their explanation without being prompted. They spoke as though quoting something from memory.

 

“‘The edge of life and death. The precipice that separates dreams from waking. The razor’s blade that cuts between existence and its lack. The empty doorway to countless worlds.’ Excising the poetic claptrap Marlett was prone to it is where souls communicate to one another. The place they are all connected.”

 

“The collective consciousness.” Frisk once read a book on the subject, despite having little interest in the metaphysical. But she’d run out of other books to read, around that time, so she read it. Still… “Seems rather lonely, with just the two of us here.”

 

Chara nodded, acknowledging the point. “…… I suppose that was inaccurate. You and I are not truly on The Edge just… nearby. Marlett also said, ‘those born straddling life and death are always closest to it, and forever remain sensitive to its call.’”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“It means…” Chara’s smile faded, (possibly genuine) sympathy in their expression as they said, “There were… complications when you were born. Am I wrong?”

 

Frisk’s brow drew downward in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?” It was a very good guess, and they weren’t wrong. Frisk knew they weren’t, because her human mother shoved the information in her face as soon as she could understand. That woman used nearly dying during childbirth as an excuse to treat Frisk however she pleased, nevermind the fact that her daughter almost died, as well. But if Chara could poke around her memories, why ask?

 

The peculiar smile came back, though it was a bit off-center. “People that cheat Death when they are born are drawn to The Edge at some point. It is because our souls know the way. Even if we forget as we grow older. Where we are now is likely the threshold of that first step onto the Edge.” They ended their explanation, smiling expectantly. It was like they were looking forward to… something. Frisk couldn’t guess what. But there were still questions that hadn’t been answered.

 

“You still haven’t told me why it’s so important to regain my full potential,” said Frisk. “You also haven’t given me a reason to risk my health by using red magic, again.”

 

“What happened before was a fluke. A mistake,” said Chara. “I was too eager to help you. Our combined magic caused your injuries. Two people’s worth of magic is a bit much for one body to handle. Even if they are in peak magical condition. Yours was not. I will not allow that to happen again.”

 

Frisk tilted her head. “A bit odd that you would call trying to kill my own uncle ‘helping out’. You’re also avoiding my question.”

 

Chara chuckled. “You ARE stubborn. Fine. Have it your way.

 

“You need to regain total mastery of your magic AND determination before your uncle’s judgement. No matter how careful the monsters are trying to be that human WILL die _._ Do you not remember how his simply being present in the Underground took away the star? The star that saves our memories for us and permits us return to that point in time when we die. Contemplate upon what will happen.”

 

She still had the feeling Chara wanted more from her than they were saying, but Frisk didn’t have anything concrete to object to. So she thought about her uncle, and what would happen if- _when_ his execution came to pass.

 

He would be taken to the Last Corridor, the Hall of Judgement. Sans would measure and weigh his deeds, and almost certainly find him guilty. Her uncle would be executed. But… if he could use the stars, he might come back. He might return to face Sans again and again…

 

A sudden chill made Frisk’s stomach turn, but she shook her head. “There’s no way my uncle can touch the star,” she said. “The guards won’t let him. I don’t think the monsters can see them, but the stars are still usually far enough out of the way that people avoid casually walking over them.”

 

“Perhaps,” Chara agreed, “but he does not need to touch a star. It is possible that he will fall into the Ruins. I know I did.”

 

“…what do you mean? How do you know that?”

 

Chara shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, or perhaps irritated. “The Dreemurrs were taking me to New Home for the first time. We were walking through Hotland and I tripped and fell… Into the lava.” Frisk winced, and her expression made Chara burst out in their first genuine laugh of the encounter. “And you thought DROWNING wasn’t fun!” They quickly mastered themselves, continuing their story after a sigh. “Then I woke up. Back in the Ruins. I never touched any stars. But I still wound up there.

 

“I am not saying that WILL happen. But the possibility exists. Will you allow that filth to toy with monster lives by turning back time? Surely you have noticed how predictable magic attacks can be. If you face them often enough. Give him enough chances and he will learn Sans’ patterns. He will KILL Sans.”

 

“Th-that…” Frisk noticed that she was shaking, and forced herself to stop. “That’s all just conjecture. It’s equally possible that all he’ll do is die.”

 

“Of course it is.” Chara agreed so quickly it made Frisk blink. Their smile was undaunted as they continued. “But do you TRULY wish to risk your friend’s life on a possibility? Do you want to risk the lives of the people you swore you would protect? You DO want to keep them all safe.”

 

Frisk clenched her hands into fists. _Of course_ she wanted to keep everyone safe! If Chara was really a part of her, now, they would already know that. So _why_ where they pressuring her to commit to mastering magic? “What do you really want from me?”

 

It took a moment for Frisk to realize she’d spoken aloud. She couldn’t take her question back, so she waited. She and Chara stared at one another, stony gaze meeting empty smile. Then, the other child chuckled. Softly at first, then they began to laugh aloud. Frisk waited and waited but they didn’t stop, making her question their sanity. Chara eventually mastered themselves enough to speak again.

 

“Perceptive of you. Fine. I suppose we have beaten around the bush long enough.

 

“Those ‘nightmares’ Mrs. Dreemurr said you were having. They were me. I was trying to reach the surface of your mind and break free from your shadow. I drag your consciousness here while I do. I do so in the hope that I may walk around on my own. Instead of being carted around by you.”

 

Frisk’s jaw nearly dropped, and only years of etiquette lessons prevented it. “H-how!?”

 

The other still smiled. “Determination can be shared. The more determined you become the more you share with me. As you grow stronger so do I.”

 

Their smile disappeared. “I will not permit a HUMAN hurt the monsters. If your uncle gets past Sans they will all die. If you were SMART you would do everything in your power to prevent that. Even if it meant taking matters into your own hands.”

 

“I’m not going to kill my uncle,” said Frisk flatly.

 

Chara’s brows drew downward ever so slightly in an expression of restrained anger. “Staying determined means doing whatever is necessary.”

 

“It’s not necessary for me to kill him! I’ll find a way to keep the star from him and he can rot in prison for all I care! Sans doesn’t need to do anything for that. He might even appreciate being able to do nothing.”

 

Chara said nothing in response. They met Frisk’s glare with one of their own before standing. Frisk followed suit, and she wondered if Chara could feel the bad feeling they were giving her.

 

She watched as Chara inhaled deeply, then let the air out of their lungs slowly before they said, “ **You IDIOT**.”

 

Chara’s left hand twitched. Frisk ducked as something red flashed past her cheek. Before she could retaliate (though she wasn’t sure how she would do that,) red knives taller than her burst from the ground.

 

She was trapped. Frisk had no way of knowing how much the knives would hurt her if she touched them, so she couldn’t risk running through them the way she had Papyrus’ bone gate. Judging from the ill intent she could feel coming off Chara, however, it was probably sufficient to seriously harm, if not kill her.

 

“ **What did I just tell you,** ” they said. “ **I will not let ANY human hurt the monsters. Especially not a coward that sits on her hands. Who does NOTHING when there is an obvious solution to a problem.** ”

 

“How does that hurt anyone?”

 

“ **It hurts them because you could have done something. AND YOU DID NOT. You had your chance to end this before it began. In your uncle’s basement. You squandered it. I will rectify your mistake. Once and for all.** ”

 

“You can’t do that!”

 

“ **We shall see.** ”

 

Chara turned their back on Frisk, walking to the floating buttons. Frisk bent her body this way and that, trying to find a way between the knives, but there wasn’t any. The cage had been expertly crafted to prevent her escape. Chara raised a hand and touched the “continue” button…

 

Both buttons faded, as did Chara. Frisk was left alone, in the dark, battling her growing hopelessness.

* * *

 


	23. Joyride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone gets to stretch their legs...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I’ve been thinking about revising the precursor to this fic, Underfantasy (over on Fanfiction.net, if you're interested. There's a link to it in the end-of-work notes). In other words I’m going to rewrite it, now that I have a much better idea of my own world.
> 
> I’d be making it so Ufan and AtDGO aren’t separate fics, anymore. They’d be under the same title, once I work up the nerve to go through with this. I don’t know how I’m going about it, quite yet, but AtDGO will go on hiatus once Chapter 25 is posted, so I can focus on the overhaul. The hiatus will last indefinitely, and all the current AtDGO chapters and any new chapters will be eventually become a part of the newly-revised Ufan.
> 
> The majority of the changes will be in Ufan. The chapters where the monsters live on the surface might still be the same just… without the (admittedly unnecessary) bits at the start of each chapter with “Francine and Manuela.”
> 
> Until I’m ready to post this new super-fic, AtDGO will stay where it is. It will only come down once I start posting those chapters in the revised Ufan.
> 
> Let me know what you think, if you feel like it. No pressure. I’ll just… go now.

* * *

_“I don’t know if Chara is truly evil, or not. If I use them later down the line I don’t want them to be evil incarnate. But… they won’t be good, either.”_ -Francine I. Kane, 201X-

**Chapter 22: Joyride**

 

Chara awoke to darkness. It had to be the middle of the night, judging by the quiet surrounding the tent, although it would have been more accurate to say the _relative_ quiet. An early summer breeze was making all the trees rustle. Insects called to one another and animals moved throughout their territories, predators and prey alike. Everyone was used to such sounds, by now. No one would notice one more predator lurking in the dark.

 

It was a perfect night for what they had in mind.

 

They sat up and stretched, rolling their head on their new neck. They flexed their borrowed fingers and let their magic travel down new arms. They wriggled their toes and marveled at how even _that_ felt different. It wasn’t the only difference…

 

Chara had never cared for the… odds and ends that’d hung off their old body. They remembered wishing they had none of it and it looked like that wish finally came true. But after poking around Frisk’s memories and learning what she knew about puberty (an interesting lesson…), Chara knew being a female had its own set of… inconveniences.

 

But this body would do, for now. Magic did not care about biology, and to prove it Chara summoned a knife to their left hand as a test, grasping the expression of their determination as it appeared. They smiled, feeling the familiar tug on the soul they were now driving like a buggy.

 

It didn’t matter that the soul was borrowed, too. They were the one in control. That was all that ever mattered.

 

They dissipated the knife and quietly left the confines of the sleeping bag, slipping into Frisk’s boots. They dared not to awaken Mrs. Dreemurr, nor alert the guards standing outside. Since they could not walk out the front door they would have to make their own exit. Was it not grand that this was a tent with nice, thin walls?

 

Mrs. Dreemurr continued to sleep as Chara walked to the back of the tent. “Flowey” sat in his pot near the head of Frisk’s sleeping bag. The human did not want a nocturnal herbivore to come along and eat him while he slept, so she made it a habit to bring him inside. A mixture of peculiar feelings stirred in their chest as they passed him, making Chara pause.

 

On one hand, Asriel ruined _everything_. He squandered their sacrifice and refused to fight, even when the human capacity for violence was shoved in his face. That soft-headed, soft-hearted crybaby LET them kill him. He doomed his race to live under the mountain far longer than they had to. But now…

 

Now sweet and loving Asriel was soulless little Flowey. Chara knew they were not the most compassionate person, but to see their only true friend reduced to THAT… Because of a plan Asriel never really want to go along with in the first place…

 

Alphys may have injected the determination but, because of their plan, Asriel’s memories had been carved into those seeds for the DT to resurrect. Chara’s hand twitched, itching to put what was left of their best friend out of his misery…

 

They shook their head. They had to focus if they were going to make things right. They were going to help the monsters, this time, starting with the human that caused them grief. They couldn’t waste their energy before then, because afterward they were going to go after more humans. Not a single one was going to hurt another monster, ever again.

 

Anticipation curled the corners of their mouth into a smile. They were filled with determination.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans twitched out of slumber, wondering what had awoken him. He didn’t have long to wait before his internal question was answered.

 

“Frisk? What is the matter? You don’t normally call me this late at ni-” Papyrus cut himself off. Sans peeked through a half-open orbit as his brother stilled, expression horrified. “Flowey? What’s wrong? Slow down! Calmly, now. What did you say about Frisk?”

 

Sans abandoned pretending to sleep in order to reach over and grasp Papyrus’ carpus. He pulled the arm down, bringing the c-phone with it. His brother was trying to resist but Sans wasn’t having any of it. He put the device on speaker and a voice he’d never heard before continued without realizing there was a newcomer to the conversation. The voice was hushed, like “Flowey” was trying to talk without waking someone.

 

“-when I woke up, Frisk was standing at the back of the tent, holding a magic knife! The red one! She cut a hole in the wall, then crawled outside without a word!”

 

Sans forced himself to keep smiling, even as his brow ridges drew downward. “well, well, well,” he said almost amiably. “have to hand it to you, weed. didn’t think you were quite this talented. got any other talents we need to know about? torturing innocent kids, for example.”

 

He was worried about Frisk. He really was. But old feelings were coming back with a vengeance. Too much information was falling into place, all at once. Some of his nightmares were coming true and he was _not_ happy about it. Anger, grief, and betrayal warred with the need to know what was going on, _right now_. Silence stretched until Flowey sighed, making their end of the c-phone call hiss.

 

“Listen, Chuckles, we don’t have time for you to go into your spiel about how you’re going to give me a ‘bad time.’” He sounded scared, but matter-of-fact as well. “Something’s going on with Frisk. I know her mom talked to you about her nightmares. Well, it looks like she’s started sleep-walking, and I have no idea where she’s going! _With a knife in her hand_ , if you need reminding.”

 

“and you expect me to believe _you?_ the little weirdo that attacked us at the barrier, before that flash of light? the freak that was trying to _kill_ frisk?”

 

“Dammit Sans, I know what I did! You can judge me all you want, later. But right this minute Frisk is running around, _using magic that hurt her_ , and I don’t know where she’d be going with it! And every second we spend arguing is one second closer to losing track of her!”

 

Sans’ mandible hurt before he realized he was grinding his teeth together. The weed had a point, damn it to Hell! But memories of erased timelines piled one on top of another. He didn’t know why a voice was all it took for clarity to return (if one could call the jumbled mess of dozens of lifetimes “clarity”), but he _knew_ he couldn’t trust that flower! Not that demented little freak! He just _couldn’t!_

 

Papyrus’ soft voice brought him back to the present. “Sans… Brother, please. I know you don’t like golden flowers, anymore, and that you’ve had nightmares about them. But Flowey isn’t like that! He’s my friend. We can trust him. Furthermore, Frisk running away somewhere, in secret and without a guard, is dangerous! She needs us. All of us.” He didn’t wait for Sans to respond, or argue. He said to Flowey, “Well, my friend, if you are borrowing Frisk’s c-phone, may I assume it’s not on her person?”

 

“Yeah… she left it behind.”

 

Sans scoffed. “and just how does a weed like you use a c-phone?”

 

The rolling of Flowey’s eyes was almost audible. “Oh, please. I lifted six full-grown monsters, two of which were _the Dreemurrs_ , clear off the ground. You think a little bitty c-phone is a challenge?”

 

“Please, you two! We’re getting off-track! Frisk’s health, if not her life, is at stake, here! Stop boondoggling, both of you!”

 

Sans winced. Being scolded by his brother was usually just part of their routine, but right this minute there was a trace of genuine disappointment in Papyrus’ voice. And he had a point, too! But Sans was damned if he was going to apologize to a weed. Not even Papyrus could make him do that.

 

He released his brother’s carpus and shoved his tarsals into his boots. “’m goin’ t’see alphys,” he muttered. “mebbe one of her scryin’ eyes caught frisk.”

 

He almost shortcut away, not wanting to listen to whatever Flowey decided to spew next, or listen to Papyrus scold him for trying to watch his back, but the memory of a green scarf flashed before his eyes. Papyrus’ scarf, covered in dust and fluttering in his hands, made him stop and lean toward Papyrus’ c-phone.

 

“one thing before i go, _flowey_ , ” he said, pronouncing the name like it was a curse. “ if i find out this is some plot to do something to me and mine, _again_ …” He changed his voice, letting Flowey know he wasn’t joking. “There is not a hole in existence deep enough to hide you from me. I do not care how many lifetimes it takes, I _will_ find you. Do you understand?”

 

“What do you mean ‘again’? Do you mean like one of your ‘across space and time’ pranks?” Papyrus’ unease was clear in his voice, not liking it when Sans did _that_ with his. Nor did he like the way Sans’ pupils snuffed out whenever he did it.

 

Sans ignored his brother. He let his voice go back to normal and his pupils returned as he said, “well, mulch-breath? we clear?”

 

“…clear as crystal.”

 

“good.”

 

Sans shortcut away without another word, only to miss his destination by a good fifteen feet. Great. Fantastic. It figured his agitation would throw off his aim.

 

He was standing just outside the Lab. Although the scrying eyes (Alphys was damned if she was going to call them what they were; cameras) had been moved to the surface, they still fed their images to her console down in Hotland. Sans keyed in his passcode a little more forcefully than normal, still angry.

 

Leave it to his brother- his big-hearted, empathetic, too-nice-for-his-own-good brother -to harbor a criminal! Him AND Frisk! Whether or not Flowey committed any crimes in this particular timeline he sure as hell was guilty of them in the past. Sans’ convoluted definition of “the past” still counted, in his books, and Flowey was long overdue for a sentencing.  

 

Voices that sounded like Dante and Pristina told him he was being biased, again. He told the back of his mind to suck eggs. Memories of his grandfather sending him to the corner for using that kind of language (and stuff even coarser) almost made him laugh, but he sighed instead. He spared a thought for his departed grandparents as he made his way inside.

 

The interior of the Lab was dark. Not a single screen was lit, probably in an attempt to save what little power the Core provided, these days. He mentally apologized to Alphys for barging in and using her stuff, but she was just going to have to deal with it. She could always tell people he pulled rank on her, easy to do now that she was just one more citizen of the kingdom.

 

He turned on the big console. Back in the good old days the scrying eyes were used within the Lab, making sure only the alchemists assigned to each research task tended to them. More people than one would think were always looking to take credit for someone else’s work, and Sans had assisted in the security efforts, more than once. His hand glided over the buttons, finding that Alphys never bothered to change the password for this, either. Sloppy of her, but right this minute he was more than grateful for her oversight. Images flickered on-screen as he quickly went through each eye’s feed.

 

* _where is she?_ When the last image revealed nothing he broke out in a cold sweat. He started over, spending a second longer than he wanted to looking at each image, again.

 

* _where is she?!_ Sans swallowed the lump in his non-existent throat as image after image came up empty of any human girls.

 

* _c’mon, kid, cut an old man some slack…_ He was about to call Papyrus and tell him he couldn’t find her when something caught the corner of his orbit. It was the briefest shadow of movement, more sensed than seen. But that particular camera was just one in the string of eyes along the path to the Underground, so Sans skipped to one further down the line.

 

* _there!_ Sans sighed in relief, even as confusion built. Frisk was striding briskly, but not hurriedly, back into the Underground. Something about her stride wasn’t quite right… She wasn’t carrying herself the way she normally did, the way she had from Snowdin to Hotland. Even as he shot Papyrus a quick text he focused on Frisk’s face as much as he could before she moved out of the frame. The image quality sucked but he still took a screenshot of it.

 

Then she was gone. Frisk entered the path into the castle as Sans received a call from Toriel. He sighed, putting the computer to work on enhancing the image he’d taken as he answered.

 

“heya, to-”

 

She interrupted him, barely-restrained panic making her voice waver. “Sans, Frisk is gone. My child is missing and I have not a clue as to where she went! She cut a hole in the back of the tent -how, I do not know- and she left me! She even left her c-phone behind! Stars above, _why do they_ _always_ _leave me?!_ ”

 

“hey, hey, easy!” Sans started sweating again, unaccustomed to hearing such anguish in his friend’s voice. He spoke as soothingly as he could. “i know where frisk is, okay? i’m about to go and get her, so we’ll meet you at the castle.” Because like hell Toriel was going to sit at home while her kid was at large. Sans knew her better than that.

 

“Th-the castle?” He heard a sharp intake of breath, an equally sharp exhale then a couple of deeper, calming breaths. When Toriel spoke again she sounded much more like herself. “Why would she be going there?”

 

“dunno. i’ll ask her when i see her. see you soon.” Sans ended the call before Toriel could say anything. He turned his attention back to the computer, which now displayed a terrible truth.

 

Frisk’s face had _that_ smile on it. Her eyes weren’t glowing but that expression was unmistakable. Even as dread chilled his marrow Sans ran some quick calculations. At her pace, given the amount of time that’d passed since he lost sight of her, where would she be…?

 

He swore with soft vehemence and shortcut away, hoping his calculations wouldn’t be thrown off by Frisk jogging once she entered the Underground.

* * *

 


	24. A Call to Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small force is rallied.

* * *

 

_ From here the story would move in a direction completely decided by Manuela’s imagination. If Francine ever dreamed of this event it never occurred to her to write it down, or bring it up in the pretend interview, or even discuss it in one of their brainstorming sleepovers. Manuela could only hope her friend liked it, wherever she was… _

 

**Chapter 23: A Call to Arms**

 

Papyrus had been sleeping, for once unbothered by the nightmares that’d been a recurring theme in his life for what seemed like forever. There were no lasers trapping him in Hotland, as they had That One Time. There were no dark hallways with gray doors at the end which he could never reach, no matter how hard he ran. There were no feelings of abandonment, or echo flowers whispering terrible things. It was the most peaceful rest he’d had in ages.

 

So, naturally, when his c-phone buzzed under his skull he’d been a little startled. His muffled “nyeh!” of surprise woke up Sans, but Flowey’s near panic distracted him from properly apologizing. 

 

As he watched his brother blink out of existence Papyrus struggled to process his emotions. He finally decided he was both confused and somewhat appalled by Sans’ abrupt aggression. The iron grip on his carpus had been a bit of a surprise, as well. He didn’t realize Sans had kept up his training, although his brother’s success as High Judge indicated he wasn’t exactly a pushover. It was just so easy to forget whenever he caught Sans boondoggling! And he’d accused Flowey of such awful things!

 

His contemplation of the peculiar conversation between his brother and friend ended when Flowey started hissing into the c-phone. “Toriel’s waking up! Listen, you need to find Frisk and stop her. Don’t let your brother do it. He’ll hurt her. He might even-”

 

The call ended. He still didn’t know why Flowey insisted upon acting like any other echo flower (which was, to be frank, creepy,) but he couldn’t fault his friend for throwing all his skill into the effort. Even if it meant having to hang up on a c-phone call without so much as a “goodbye.” 

 

He pondered, weighing his options. Depending on where Frisk thought she was going, and what she intended to do, he may very well need his armor. Her current frame of mind might not be the best, either, given how angry at her uncle she’d been the last time she used the knives. However, armor wasn’t very stealthy. He wasn’t sure it was wise to alert the entire camp that something was amiss by him running through it at top speed, clanking all along the way. 

 

He would have to make up his mind, soon. Sans just might decide the situation called for a spanking. Not a very hard one, but he’d been quite unsettled the last time Frisk used the red knives. He might go very slightly overboard to snap her out of it. Although it did bring to mind the question of what Flowey thought Sans would do to Frisk, or what Sans thought Flowey was capable of…

 

It wasn’t that Papyrus forgot what happened when everyone gathered at the barrier, just before that flash of light, but he believed Flowey deserved the chance to do better. He needed a chance to make better decisions. Considering that he’d just called because he was worried about Frisk, he had taken a step in the right direction! Not that Flowey could take a real step, because he didn’t have feet. It was just a metaphor!

 

Papyrus shook his head at himself. He was boondoggling just like his brother! He had to get his armor on, and he was grateful it’d been designed to be strapped on by oneself. He didn’t need a page or a squire or anything similar. Although having someone looking up to him, someone to mentor, might have been cool…

 

His thoughts were interrupted when he received a terribly terse text from Sans. It more-or-less said Frisk was on her way to the Underground.

 

Very good! That simplified matters! He didn’t  _ have _ to run through camp to get back to the Underground! Although he lacked Sans’ shortcuts he still had a way to bypass the twisting, turning pathway up the mountain.

 

The Great Royal Guard Papyrus was sworn to protect his princess from all threats. He would do his duty, even if it meant protecting Frisk from herself. 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

When Toriel awoke she didn’t know why. When she heard hushed speaking she thought Frisk might’ve been having another nightmare and clawed her way to wakefulness. She saw nothing but Flowey in the corner, bidding goodnight (the last thing it heard) into Frisk’s deactivated c-phone. At the sight of her child’s empty bedding she had to fight the first bolt of panic to strike her. 

 

* _ Perhaps she left to use the latrine _ , she thought to herself. She left her sleeping bag and poked her head outside to have a word with the guards. 

 

They never saw her leave.

 

She whirled back to the interior of the tent and finally noticed the hole in the back wall. It had been cut with something sharp, and was of a size to allow Frisk to crawl out, if she ducked. Toriel ran outside to inspect the ground, looking for some sign of her daughter, but found little she could identify in the leaf litter. Tracking had never been a part of her skillset and another bolt of panic clawed at her soul. 

 

It was happening  _ again! _ Another child was slipping through her fingers like sand in an hourglass, with every second lost one step closer to  _ never _ seeing Frisk alive, again! 

 

She called the first person to come to mind; her best friend. She was very nearly overwhelmed with despair but the calmness of his voice had been a much-needed balm for her nerves. It made the end of the call that much more jarring, making her stare at her c-phone with incomprehension. He had never been so abrupt with her, before! She was almost insulted but soon shook common sense back into herself. 

 

Her feelings would have to wait. Her daughter was missing, Sans found her, and they would be waiting for her in the castle. She gathered up her skirt and started running, the guards following close behind. 

 

As soon as Frisk was safe and sound she was going to ground the overly-precocious girl until her eighteenth birthday!

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

“For mercy’s sake, you need to sleep!”

 

“I’ll get a nap later. You go ahead.”

 

“You know I’m all for passion and giving it your all, but there’s a time and place for rest, too! You have gone WAY beyond that. You’ve gotten hardly any since the barrier came down!”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“The hell you are!”

 

Alphys winced. She saw from the corner of her eye how Undyne clenched her jaw shut tight, looking remorseful for swearing at her. The former Royal Alchemist knew her girlfriend was right, but there was just too much to be done! There was too much to move to the surface, too many instruments to repurpose and calibrate, too many things to invent so they could live comfortably on the surface AND to analyze what was happening inside Frisk. Alphys  _ couldn’t _ sleep if she was going to be of use to anybody! 

 

Even the current discussion (she hesitated to call it an “argument”, much less a “disagreement”) with Undyne was happening as she sat in a lab a few floors above her bedroom. She was elbow-deep in the guts of the new crystoray imaging machine she was working on and she couldn’t stop.

 

She had to atone for what she did. She  _ had _ to make things right. The only way she could do that was to put her technological know-how to work.

 

A strong hand fell on her shoulder as its owner knelt behind her. Undyne was always so gentle with her, even when throwing her into a trash can (which amazingly hadn’t hurt at all). Alphys could feel her fingers trembling with the restrained need to grip harder, possibly even shake some sense into her. 

 

“I’m sorry for swearing at you,” said Undyne. “It’s just… you’re falling apart right in front of me and you’re not letting me help! I can’t let you keep doing this to yourself. It was bad enough back when you were pretending, but at least you were managing to relax back then. Now you’re not relaxing at all! You’re going to have a breakdown if you keep this up, and I am NOT going to let that happen!” 

 

Alphys extracted her arm from the machine. She appreciated the way Undyne waited until her claws were completely free before whirling her around to meet eye-to-eye. She could see her girlfriend was searching for more words that would make her change her mind, but her lips opened and closed in unusual indecisiveness. She looked so worried, and there was a softness and warmth in that golden gaze for just for Alphys… 

 

Her soul did somersaults as her heart skipped a few beats. Alphys opened her mouth to tell Undyne she’d get a little rest, but she was interrupted by a recorded whoopee cushion going off on the PA system for the floor. 

 

Undyne twitched violently at the sound, shouting “What the _ FUCK  _ was that?!?!” She immediately winced, then was sheepish as she apologized for swearing, again.

 

Alphys pat the hand on her shoulder, sighing. “It’s the Sans alarm. Well, it’s supposed to be for anyone that inputs the door code, but Sans is the only one that uses it anymore, so… A-anyway, it’s supposed to be a chime but he must’ve changed the sound to, um,  _ that _ . You know, as a joke. It’s certainly a favorite of his. Always has been.”

 

Undyne’s eye rolled. “Oh my god that bone bag needs to grow up. I swear Papyrus is more mature than he is!”

 

“Eheheh! It wouldn’t surprise me.” Alphys didn’t miss the pleased and relieved smile that crossed Undyne’s face when she laughed. Had she really been that bad?

 

She couldn’t dwell on it. She led her girlfriend to the stairs, turning off the light in the room as she did. Emergency lighting illuminated the staircase, just enough. Alphys sighed, wishing the elevators were operable, but nighttime was when the Core went to its lowest output settings. That being the case, the Lab barely had enough power to get by. So, down the stairs they went.

 

Alphys became a little winded about halfway down, but Undyne picked her up and carried her without missing a beat. In fact, she was skipping three or four steps at a time, carrying her like she was a princess from one of her novels all the while. She had to repress a squeal of delight as she thought, * _ Undyne is so amazing~! _

 

Despite Undyne’s efforts, however, there was little sign of Sans when they made it to the ground floor. Only the master console for the scrying eyes was active, with an image of Frisk still on the screen. The expression on her face made Alphys gasp and Undyne swear, again. The alchemist quickly went through the security recordings and came to the same conclusion Sans did. Undyne started running, with Alphys clinging to her back the whole way.

 

They had a king to wake up.

 

~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~***~~~~~

 

Sans’ destination was the Last Corridor. Without the sunset to color the windows it was just one more darkened hallway, lit dimly by crystals set into the ceiling. They were there so people could see if they decided to take a nighttime stroll to the throne room, for whatever reason. Sans’ grandfather once told him he thought Asgore had been too accommodating, if well-meaning, for having them set up. Sans was just grateful to have  _ some _ light to shed on this mystery. 

 

He grinned at his own absurdity. * _ …heh. now i KNOW i’ve been rattled. unintentional puns in my own head. _

 

He shook his head at himself and listened. If his calculations were correct, he would be hearing Frisk’s footsteps just about…  _ now _ , and he wasn’t disappointed. He waited until she was a little farther in before stepping away from the pillar he’d been hiding behind. She stopped walking, and the two of them stared at one another for a long moment.

 

It was almost like the day he judged her, but the wrongness of the situation rankled on Sans’ non-existent nerves. Their positions were wrong, the Hall was too dark, Frisk shouldn’t be here at all, much less with  _ that _ smile on her face… 

 

Somehow he kept on grinning and managed to keep his tone of voice light, and only a  _ little _ admonishing. “ kind of late for a walk, don’t you think? ” Frisk said nothing and her face went back to normal, or so it seemed, but Sans could tell something was off. She was trying too hard to squint, and was trying to hide that she was trying. It was like she couldn’t remember how her own face worked. 

 

Everything was wrong, wrong,  _ wrong! _ It was even worse than the day her magic first manifested. It was getting harder to smile and he felt a trickle of cold sweat sliding between his scapulae. His acting skills were being put to the test and he prayed to any god listening to help him avoid a confrontation with the side of Frisk that  _ enjoyed _ skewering her uncle. 

 

She tilted her head in that little way that said she was curious about something, but even the angle of  _ that _ was off. There was also a miniscule difference from her usual expression. 

 

“How did you find me so quickly?” she asked. Her voice sounded flat. It wasn’t deadpan or calm or incredulous. It was almost like it’d been purposefully leeched of emotion. Ice crawled up Sans’ spine upon hearing it, stopping his shudder through sheer force of will.

 

Once he was sure he had his own voice under control, he said, “ i got a call from tori saying you went missing, so i went to check what the scrying eyes saw. they found you, so i took a shortcut to beat you here. ” He shrugged with shoulders and hands, hoping Frisk wouldn’t notice how much he was leaving out, or how he was fudging the order of events. He hoped that, if things went wrong for whatever reason, Frisk wouldn’t know Papyrus had been involved in ratting her out. She might not be happy about that…

 

Sans didn’t care if she crushed Flowey but he didn’t want his brother getting caught in the crossfire. So it was better not to mention that particular call in the first place. 

 

He slid his hands into his pockets and relaxed his posture as he winked, but couldn’t help closing his right eye when he did. He hoped Frisk wouldn’t notice the difference as he said, “ why don’t we both head back to camp? i’m sure tori’s not mad, just worried about you. ”

 

“Not yet. There is something I must do.”

 

Ice crawled  _ down _ San’s spine as he asked, “ what would that be? ” 

 

Frisk- no, the  _ thing _ wearing her face started smiling, dropping the Frisk-like squint as it said, “Something that should have been done. Long ago.”

 

Sans raised a brow ridge, noting how different Frisk looked with her eyes open. It made her appear older, more calculating and downright sinister when combined with a fake smile. No wonder the poor kid squinted almost all the time. 

 

“ if that was a hint to a riddle, it’s not a very good one, ” he said. “ do you mind giving me another? ”

 

It did another head-tilt. “…your manner of speech. It is… different. You are not mumbling as you usually do.”

 

He shrugged, keeping his hands in his pockets. “ i only started talking that way to annoy my peers. they need to loosen up. ” He wanted to comment on the thing’s speech but decided not to. Toriel was on her way. He had to keep it occupied and buy her time to get here. Although what she could do about it was a mystery… “ anyway, what is it that ‘should have been done’? ” 

 

“If you let me go I will show you.”

 

“ and what makes you think i’ll let you go anywhere but back to camp? ” He let his grin fall as he looked into Frisk’s eyes hoping to find the kid, the  _ friend _ , he’d come to know. 

 

He didn’t find her. He only found glowing red irises as the thing inside Frisk said, in that oddly echoed voice, “ **I have somewhere to be. You are in my way.** ” 

 

He shook his head. “ i don’t know what you’re up to, but i know i can’t let you do it. so let’s just go back to camp so we can- ”

 

**“NO. You will move. Or I will move you. Or you force my hand and I turn you to Dust. What comes to pass matters little to me. But I WILL go to the Prison. That human will never see the light of day again. I am determined to ensure he does not.”**

 

“ and I am determined to see justice done, properly. ” Sans clenched his hands in his pockets. So  _ that _ was what it wanted…

 

The thing had the nerve to chuckle. “ **I see... Would it not be poetic for that wretch to die by my hand? He hurt me ever so much…** ”

 

“ he didn’t hurt  _ you _ , he hurt FRISK! ” 

 

Silence fell heavily between them. Sans grit his teeth at his own stupidity as the thing inside Frisk kept smiling. 

 

“ **Who is to say I am not Frisk?** ” her voice asked. “ **I have her body. I have her memories. And…** ” It paused, Frisk’s soul floating before her body, just like in a Fight. The smile became almost cruel as it said, “ **I have her SOUL.** ” 

 

Sans couldn’t stop the sweat from breaking out on his skull. This was bad. If it was  _ that _ deep inside Frisk, how were they going to get it out?! What the hell was it, anyway!?! 

 

The thing gave him a slightly less disturbing smile, leaving Frisk’s soul exposed as it said, “ **Very well. There is no point in continuing to pretend. Listen. I only want the human’s life. I do not wish to harm you but I will if I must. Step aside. Do nothing. That is what you prefer after all.** ” 

 

“ …heh. you’ve got me there, ” Sans shrugged, grinning in spite of himself. “ doing nothing IS one of my favorite things. but there’s something i like more… ” He let his grin evaporate completely as he glared. “ taking care of my friends and family, people that you’ve gone and decided to screw with. i’m willing to let kids off easy on a lot of things, but that’s not one of them. so you just return frisk’s body, her memories AND her soul, then leave her hell alone. ”

 

The thing only smiled wider. “ **And if I do not?** ” 

 

“ if you don’t… buddy, you’re not going to like what comes next. ” 

 

“ **An empty threat. You would not dare to kill Frisk’s body. That would break your promise.** ” 

 

“ who said anything about killing? ” He saw the brief flash of confusion on Frisk’s hijacked face. It made him grin as he said, “ haven’t you ever heard of spanking? kids don’t die from that. sure, frisk’s body will suffer the indignity of it all, but i know she’ll forgive me when she comes back and i explain the circumstances. ” 

 

The thing’s smile finally faded. “ **…you cannot be serious.** ”

 

“ take one more step and you’ll see just how serious i am. ” 

 

Frisk’s body took a step. The expression forced onto her face was something that combined amusement, combativeness and anticipation. It was a weird thing to see, but Sans just shrugged to himself. 

 

“ welp, here we go… ”

* * *

 


	25. Determination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein a fight may occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there was a bit of confusion over on FF.net on what I meant by "chapter 25." I'd forgotten the prologue threw everything off by one chapter. So the hiatus begins next week, not today. Sorry for the confusion.

* * *

 

**Chapter 24: Determination**

 

The corridor darkened. It didn’t feel right to drag Frisk into a Fight, but Sans knew he had to. He couldn’t risk that thing getting past him, so trapping it in a proper field was all he could do. He just had to control his intent. He would wait for Toriel to show up and hope she could reach Frisk because she had to be in there, somewhere. She just  _ had _  to be! If she wasn’t…

 

If that THING killed everything Frisk was to steal her body and soul, he would make sure it burned in Hell.

 

It didn’t waste any time. For its first turn five red magic knives were summoned, just like when Frisk Fought her uncle. Did that attack actually belong to this thing? It aimed for his joints and sternum, but he sidestepped them all. It was his turn…

 

“ take a seat and think about what you’ve done. ” He turned his opponent blue, forcing it down onto Frisk’s knees before summoning some special bones. The attack connected and about a third of Frisk’s HP turned pink. Sans had to hide a wince. He’d have to be careful about using that move, but what did that say about his opponent? About Frisk? Was it really something else in control over there, or was this some split personality she harbored before she ever came to the Underground?

 

He’d always compared Frisk to a particularly complex puzzle, or equation, but she was doing her damnedest to stump him, tonight.

 

Two more red knives came for him, spinning through the air as though they’d been thrown. They were dodged easily and Sans kept his hands in his pockets as he summoned a bullet barrage. A weaker one than he would normally use, with a lower number of bullets and a little slower to boot, but the goal here wasn’t to kill whatever was piloting his human friend. That would kill Frisk, too, which would just force her to do whatever she did to come back. (Assuming Frisk would come be the one coming back, and not the thing controlling her. It seemed awfully determined, after all.)

 

His right hand brushed against a familiar object in his pocket. He closed his phalanges around it, praying he wouldn’t need it…

 

The smile changed. Sans was almost reminded of Undyne before spears flew at him. He dodged them, wondering if Frisk ever figured out how to turn other people’s souls green. If she did, and the thing had access to that ability, this Fight was going to get rough. He supposed it was a good thing he knew how to dodge all kinds of magic. The thing inside Frisk was also proving to be quite dodgy.

 

The unintentional pun made Sans groan in his own mind. He made a mental note to annoy someone with it once the Fight was over.

 

And so it went. The battle went back and forth long enough that Sans began to worry Toriel wouldn’t show up. But after dodging a few fireballs he heard footsteps… behind him. Voices rose in astonishment.

 

“Sans! What in blazes is going on, here?!”

 

“What the hell are you doing, bone bag?!”

 

“Oh my god!?”

 

It was Asgore, Undyne and Alphys. Sans didn’t dare to take his eyes off his opponent, but those glowing red eyes focused on the newcomers intently as they came to his side. It was his turn, so he took the chance to summon a small number of blasters, forcing the thing to dodge their line of fire. A large hand fell on his shoulder and Asgore shook him, trying to break his focus.

 

“Sans, she only has five points left! Stop trying to kill my little girl!”

 

“ i’m not going to, ” Sans said calmly, still firing cannon after cannon at his opponent. He watched it dodge as he said, “ besides, it may look like her but frisk’s not the one i’m fighting. ”

 

“And how the hell does THAT work?!” Undyne yelled. “It sure looks like her to me!”

 

Out of the corner of his orbit Sans could see Alphys had her c-phone in her hands. She was shaking as she said, “Un-d-dyne… I think he m-might be right?”

 

As she spoke red knives came soaring through the air, but they weren’t aimed at Sans, or even Asgore. They were flying toward  _ Alphys.  _ Sans felt his soul plunge as Undyne roared. He still couldn’t look away from the thing inside his friend, but he grit his teeth as the head of the Royal Guard twirled a spear in her hands and deflected the attack. He didn’t need to see the look on Undyne’s face to know this wasn’t going to end well…

 

“Why you little-! That was deliberate!!” she shouted incredulously. She sneered as she said, “We never should have trusted a HUMAN! I’m going to KICK YOUR ASS!!!”

 

Asgore released Sans, moving closer to his protégé. “Now, Undyne, let’s not be rash, I’m sure-!”

 

Sans used blue magic to push the king out of the way of more knives, interrupting him. The skeleton was sweating as he said, “ i just told you it’s not frisk in there! now get the HELL out of here before it kills you all! ”

 

The grinding of Undyne’s teeth was audible. She glared at Sans as she said, “I may only have one eye, but I know what I fucking saw! FRISK JUST TRIED TO KILL MY GIRLFRIEND  _ AND _  MY MENTOR! She’s dog meat once I get my hands on her!!!”

 

Alphys looked close to tears as she clutched her c-phone to her chest. Everything was going wrong, again! “U-U-Undyne! There’s something y-you need to hear! Th-there’s a ca-”

 

An outraged voice and raucous clanking of armor interrupted her. Toriel looked ready to tear him apart as she shouted, “SANS! What are you doing to my daughter?! You promised to watch over her, not Fight her!”

 

Pulling ahead of the guards tailing Toriel, Papyrus raised a hand and said, “ I FEEL THIS LEVEL OF PUNISHMENT IS UNWARRANTED! ”

 

Sans groaned when he heard Toriel and Papyrus’ voices. He felt he could afford to cover his face with his metacarpals, since he hadn’t chosen what to do with his turn, yet. He rolled his pupils to the ceiling and brought his hand down as he shouted, “ for the last time I’M NOT FIGHTING FRISK! ”  

 

Everyone fell silent as Sans caught his breath. He kind of understood; he didn’t raise his voice like that very often. But between the conversation with Flowey, having his memories crash back into place AND whatever was going on inside Frisk, his patience had worn thin. Of course, everyone just started arguing, again. Everyone except for Papyrus, who scrutinized the human.

 

Undyne, still holding a spear in her hand, scoffed. “I’m still not buying it. I’m kicking Frisk’s ass and you can’t stop me.”

 

Toriel brought herself to her full height, eyes flashing as her brow drew downward. She looked down her muzzle and said, “You will do no such thing!  _ None _  of you will harm my child any further!”

 

Alphys still hadn’t let go of her c-phone, desperately tapping away at it even as she stuttered, trying to get a word in, edgewise. But her voice was overrun by Asgore’ as he said, “Tori, Undyne, please! Let’s not-”

 

“Do not ‘Tori’ me, MR. DREEMURR.” Toriel turned her eyes to him, making the king flinch. Seeing that, Undyne stood between them.

 

“Oh, fuck off, grandma!” she shouted. “I have had it up to HERE with you and your attitude! You leave Asgore alone!”

 

“How  _ dare _  you!!”

 

As the situation escalated Sans continued to watch his opponent. A strange expression crossed Frisk’s face as the thing inside her watched everyone argue. It was being hidden, now, but it was like they’d never seen a bunch of Boss Monsters disagree with one another. It was like they hadn’t known monsters could yell at each other so heatedly, or glare at one another with anger in their eyes. It even let Frisk’s eyes stop glowing, going back to their normal sunset color.

 

That thing just got more and more confusing…

 

Flames engulfed Toriel’s upraised palms. Undyne twirled her spear before pointing it at the former queen. Asgore stood between them, trying desperately to calm them down. The guard assigned to protect Toriel looked between the angry alpha females indecisively, caught between their duty to protect the former queen and loyalty to their commander. The one assigned to Frisk shook inside their armor, frozen in fear and sweating profusely. They delivered a condemned prisoner to Sans once before. They knew what power the soft-spoken skeleton normally hid. Even so, they berated themselves for their cowardice.

 

Papyrus’ brow ridges drew downward in confusion as he looked at Sans. He parted his teeth to ask something but the sound of Frisk’s recorded voice erupted from Alphys’ c-phone, whose volume had been turned to its highest setting so everyone could hear. What came next stopped everyone in their tracks.

 

**_“NO. You will move. Or I will move you. Or you force my hand and I turn you to Dust. What comes to pass matters little to me. But I WILL go to the Prison. That human will never see the light of day again. I am determined to ensure he does not.”_ **

 

Everyone except Sans turned to Alphys. Tears streamed down her face as she held her-c-phone out to them. She sniffled, but was determined as she said, “Th-the Frisk I know w-w-would never s-say anything so… so  _ horrible! _ ” She sobbed out the last word, but refused to fold under the weight of her anxiety or exhaustion.

 

Frisk needed her, and that gave her strength. Through chattering teeth and weak knees, she continued. “Th-that person c-c-c-can’t… They aren’t… S-something is t-terribly, terribly wr-wr-wrong here! I-i-it’s like when Frisk w-went after h-her uncle, only so much worse! Th-the person in that field c-can’t be her! That m-might be her body, b-but it’s not HER! S-so… So un-t-til we figure out w-what’s going on, we sh-shouldn’t f-fight each other.”

 

She locked eyes with the thing inside Frisk. “Please… wh-whoever you are, please! We can t-talk. L-let us help. You d-don’t have t-to…”

 

Alphys faltered. She wasn’t seeing her friend in those eyes. It was a stranger, a complete stranger who didn’t care about what she was saying. They might have been listening, but nothing she said was going to change their mind. She could tell she was going to fail, again. Her friend needed her and she was as powerless as she ever was.

 

* _ What in the world made me think I’d be able to help?  _ With that thought she fell to her knees, what little strength she found draining out of her and leaving her a sobbing wreck on the floor. Undyne turned her back to Toriel without a thought as to what magic she might cast. She gathered her beloved into her arms, tucked her under her chin and held her close.

 

“It’s okay, Alphys,” the warrior said gently. “I believe you. It might be Frisk’s body, but it’s not Frisk. Okay. I don’t get it, but I won’t fight Toriel. Or Frisk, I guess. But I still want to know why the  _ hell _  those attacks were aimed at Alphys and Asgore!” She glared at the human over her shoulder, shielding Alphys with her body as she did.

 

Though she tried to radiate as much love and comfort as she could to Alphys, she was still angry Frisk tried to hurt two of the people she cared about! It was also weird to see her with her eyes open. She looked like a completely different person. Not even during their Fight had the human looked that way.

 

Undyne stopped glaring as she began to see what Alphys (okay, and Sans) had meant. Not just her, but Asgore and Toriel as well. Papyrus’ voice made them jump as he said, “ I AM GRATEFUL, DR. ALPYHS, FOR YOUR TIMELY INTERRUPTION OF THE IMPENDING CONFRONTATION BETWEEN UNDYNE AND MISS TORIEL! BUT I MUST ADMIT I AM CONFUSED BY HOW YOU DID IT! WHY WAS FRISK’S VOICE ON YOUR C-PHONE? ”

 

Alphys was still upset too answer him, so Sans was the one to explain. “ there’s a camera set up in here, to bear witness whenever i… do my day job. it was set up just before granddad retired. traditionally, it’d just been him and the royal guards hearing any confessions, but asgore convinced him that having a backup for his memories wasn’t a bad idea. ” He looked over his shoulder and said, “ thanks, al, for working your techno-magic on it. almost forgot about that thing, myself. ”

 

Undyne stroked Alphys’ head as the alchemist hiccuped in her tears. She said, “You did good, Alphys. I’m really,  _ really _  proud of you. You’re the best.” She gave Alphys a quick smooch on the top of her head, pouring as much love as she could into the brief gesture. The alchemist seemed to be calming down… which was a new record! A personal best, she was sure! Undyne hugged her girlfriend as tightly as she could without hurting her.

 

Papyrus nodded as he said, “ AGREED! DR. ALPHYS IS THE COOLEST ALCHEMIST WE ALL KNOW! SO, NOW THAT  _ THAT’S _  OUT OF THE WAY! ” He rounded on Frisk, hands on his hips as he boomed, “ HUMAN! WHO ARE YOU, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH FRISK? ”

 

Sans thought he saw the thing twitch (or was it a flinch?) before it made Frisk smile. “I do not know what you mean,” it said almost innocently. “I am right here…”

 

“ DON’T GIVE ME THAT GARBAGE. ” The people who never heard him use that tone gaped at Papyrus. Even the thing blinked at him with a barely-restrained expression of surprise. Sans grinned as he continued. “ THE HUMAN  _ WE _  KNOW WOULD NEVER SAY SHE WOULD MURDER SOMEONE! NOT EVEN AS A JEST! NEITHER WOULD SHE WILLINGLY HARM ALPHYS OR HER FATHER!

 

“ I POSTULATE THAT, KNOWING HOW STRONG UNDYNE IS, AND LEARNING HOW STRONG SANS IS, YOU KNEW THEY WOULD PROTECT ASGORE AND ALPHYS! YOU MAY HAVE BEEN ATTEMPTING TO PROVOKE THEM IN ORDER TO… HASTEN THE END OF THE FIGHT! BUT! THERE IS A BETTER WAY!

 

He moved Sans’ side, placing himself firmly within the darkened area of the Fight. He shared Sans’ turn, making their choice for them both. Two options floated before Frisk’s body as he proclaimed, “ I, THE GREAT ROYAL GUARD PAPYRUS, CHOOSE TO SPARE YOU! ”

 

Sans stared at him with wide orbits. “ papyrus, you can’t! it’s going to kill you! ”

 

Looking at him out of one corner of his orbit, Papyrus said, “ EVERYONE DESERVES THE CHANCE TO DO A LITTLE BETTER! YOU KNOW THAT AS WELL AS I DO, SANS. ” He looked back at the human and smiled encouragingly. “ THERE IS STILL A CHANCE FOR THIS TO END PEACEFULLY! I KNOW YOU WILL DO THE RIGHT THING. I BELIEVE IN YOU! ”

 

“ pap-! ”

 

The thing wearing Frisk like a coat had taken a moment to consider its options. Sans felt sick as Frisk’s left hand moved toward the “Fight” command. It came down as though it was in slow motion and Sans felt his skull shake in a gesture of denial.

 

His magic flared in his left eye, tinting his vision yellow. Screw the rules of the Fight saying his turn ended!  _ Screw _  the tradition that said he and his brother had to wait for the attack! He wasn’t going to lose Papyrus, ever again!

 

He pulled his right hand out of his pocket and brought it up. On his middle finger he had a special ring, which he poured his magic into. The weapon of the High Judge, the Soulbreaker, formed into the shape of a bastard longsword. The weight of pure Justice tried to strain his carpals as he took a shortcut to stand before his opponent, the options floating between them. He set his shoulders to cleave Frisk’s soul in two, determined to do whatever it took to stop what was happening.

 

He spared a second to mentally apologize to Toriel for breaking his promise. He regretted it but, as much as he liked Frisk, Papyrus’ well-being came first. It always had, and always would. As long as his brother lived Toriel could hate him as much as she wanted. Then again, would she even remember what he did, when Frisk came back…?

 

He focused. His stats didn’t matter to the Soulbreaker, only his intent. He could see the hand moving to end Papyrus’ life had stopped in the thing’s shock at his sudden attack, but it was moving again. Time felt like it was crawling and he couldn’t bring the Soulbreaker down fast enough! Something happened to his soul…

 

He’d been turned blue! He was pulled away from Frisk’s body and his attack missed, his sword slicing the air between the magic panels that let a thirteen year-old child decide everyone’s fates. He cracked a couple tiles on the floor before he was hoisted into the air. Although his weapon wasn’t suited for throwing he set himself to do so, anyway, as he flew backward. But he saw Frisk’s  _ right _  hand do something as Papyrus caught and held him tight. More bodies crashed into them, furred and scaled hands holding his arms as he strained to see what was going on inside the field.

 

A little red pencil had formed in the air by Frisk’s hand. Her forefinger pointed and it jammed itself into the Fight button, the sound of glass being broken echoing in the corridor. Five more pencils formed, joining the first in attempting to destroy the option.

 

Everyone stopped. All monster eyes were on Frisk’s body even as Undyne, Asgore and Papyrus held Sans at bay. Alphys covered her mouth with both hands, the scales of her face gone sickly pale. Toriel was stunned, too many emotions warring for dominance in her heart for her to process. Fortunately for them all the human’s left hand had stopped moving, unable to touch the button floating before her.

 

The look on Frisk’s face was… indescribable, but that wasn’t what stopped everyone; it was her eyes. The left iris was glowing that bright, determined red, again, but the right wasn’t. It was flickering between many colors, an entire rainbow swirling in her eye. The spectacle made Sans furrow his brow ridges.

 

Why did that look so familiar?

 

Frisk’s right hand slowly rose. Sweat dotted her forehead with effort even as the left moved away from the buttons, only to start reaching for her own soul. At the same time Frisk’s right hand chose Mercy the left clawed at her soul, making Frisk gasp. Her HP steadily fell as the field disappeared, freeing everyone from the Fight. When she collapsed she only had three points in her bar, and it was falling fast…

 

Sans let the Soulbreaker dissolve and wrenched himself out of everyone’s grasp. He ran to Frisk’s side with Papyrus close on his calcanei. Sans fell to his patellas with a  _ clack _  and reached for the hand clutching Frisk’s soul, despite the fact that touching anyone’s bare soul without consent was a fairly serious crime. In her case even more-so because she was a kid, but as her HP hovered at two points he figured there wasn’t any time for the luxury of propriety.

 

“ hang in there, frisk! just hold on! ” He used both hands to try and pry the fingers off, but they were  _ determined _ . The harder he tried, the faster her HP fell. He didn’t think he could get them off without breaking Frisk’s hand. He wasn’t sure he could control his intent well enough to do that without touching her HP, at this point.

 

She had one point left. Papyrus was joining in now, but they  _ still _  couldn’t get that hand off! He was alarmed as he said, “ FRISK! OTHER HUMAN! THIS SOLUTION IS NOT IDEAL! ”

 

Her HP fell below one point… but just barely stayed above zero. How was that even possible? Toriel knelt at Frisk’s head, cupping her daughter’s face with both hands as she looked into Frisk’s eyes. Sans could feel her soul reaching for Frisk’s as she murmured reassurances. Papyrus soon followed. Sans took a moment to collect himself as much as possible before joining them.

 

So many zeroes came after that decimal point… The shadows in Frisk’s soul were running rampant. Fear and self-loathing were still there, but they were secondary to something else; hate.

 

Too many zeroes… How did Frisk do it? Blazing hot, wickedly cold hatred for humanity was swirling, threatening to drag them down and swallow them whole. The weird thing was that it didn’t feel like it came completely from her…

 

Undyne, Asgore and Alphys finally joined in reaching out to Frisk but they were too late. The darkness in her soul was too deep. They couldn’t see the real Frisk anywhere. That self-restrained, stone-faced, smart, kind, sweet, gentle, funny kid they’d all come to care about was  _ gone _ …

 

Sans’ eyelights extinguished. His hands fell away from Frisk’s soul as he was dragged into his own abyss. There was no point in trying. Frisk already lost everything that made her who she was. She was dead, no matter how much HP she still had. There was nothing they could do to help, so what good would trying do? She was going to die. They would all be sent back in time, undoing everything that happened only for it to happen again, and again, and again…

 

“ SANS! DON’T GIVE UP! ” As Papyrus shouted he used his soul-connection to grab Sans’, pulling him away from the dark. “ I KNOW THINGS LOOK BLEAK, BUT I KNOW FRISK IS IN THERE, SOMEWHERE! ”

 

Sans wanted to believe him, he really did, but he couldn’t. Not when Frisk’s soul felt like it was covered in a whirlpool of heated tar. He wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of trying to connect to it. Alphys, Asgore, and Toriel all felt the self-loathing they tried to hide within themselves and it was getting to them. It was becoming a feedback loop of helplessness, sorrow and regret that would soon spiral completely out of control. They would all Fall Down into the pit before them, just like Frisk…

 

They should never have tried in the first place. He should’ve let Frisk kill her uncle, no matter what it did to her. Even better, he should’ve ended that bastard’s life when he had the chance, preventing this from happening at all! His mind was filled with would haves, should haves, and could haves as he was consumed by his negative emotions…

 

“NGAAAHHH!!! Would you all just STOP ALREADY!?!?!” Undyne’s voice echoed in the hall even as her soul sent figurative spears of admonishment to them. “Frisk is alive! She’s in here and we’re going to find her! The rest of you just sit back and let me and Papyrus do all the work!” She returned her full attention to Frisk. “PUNK! Did you already forget what I told you?! I said the next time you got shoved in a hole, I was dragging you out! Well, HERE I COME!!!!!!”

 

Her hands replaced Sans’ in trying to free Frisk’s soul. She reached deep, braving the massive, cloying hate with tender ferocity. She was worried, Sans could feel it, but she wasn’t letting that stop her from trying to find her friend in the morass. Papyrus was right there beside her, charging forward even as he kept a thread of encouraging feelings connected to Sans behind him. Despite Papyrus’ own fear of what he might find, he was diving in like the brave person he was. Everyone could feel how much they cared for Frisk…

 

Couldn’t they see they were just going to hurt themselves, if they kept this up? They needed to stop! Frisk’s HP was well below a fraction of a percent, and it couldn’t go much lower. It wouldn’t be long before she-

 

“S…a…n…s…”

 

That was Frisk’s voice! His pupils returned as pinpricks, letting him see into the girl’s eyes. The left was still red and she was bleeding through her tears, again. The right iris was still a rainbow, but… there was something in the blackness of the pupil that made his mind stutter.

 

It was tiny a tiny, golden, shimmering star, not unlike one of the lights that hung in the night sky. Frisk’s mouth moved as he watched, letting him see how hard it was for her to reach out, but she was trying…

 

She looked at each monster in turn, struggling to say their names as she did, and he could feel something happen inside them. He could feel something happen inside himself, though he didn’t know what it was. He could feel it giving him strength where he’d lacked it before. He looked in her eye again to find her trying to bore a hole in his skull with her gaze.

 

The star shone brighter and he could swear he could feel the whatever-it-was inside him getting stronger. Even though she was dying, she was still reaching out to them. She was still trying to help them, despite being in so much pain. She was so damned determined, but  _ why…? _

 

Alphys gasped. “Sans! L-look at her soul!”

 

“ but i already did… ”

 

“Not IN her soul, AT her soul!”

 

Sans blinked in confusion, then pulled himself completely away from the connection so he could think a little better. He looked at the soul still in Papyrus and Undyne’s hands…

 

It looked the same, baleful red as Frisk’s left eye… until it flickered a different color. Sans thought he was just seeing things, so he stared until it happened again. And again, and again!

 

Pink. Frisk’s soul was trying to turn pink, but kept reverting to red.

 

“ what the hell…? ” Sans didn’t know what to think, but he took a deep breath before reconnecting to Frisk. His bond with Papyrus helped him go deeper than he would have gotten on his own, and that was when he felt something besides burning-cold hatred. It was small with distance, but it was there.

 

Love was there. Not  **LOVE** , but the feelings a child held for their parents and their friends. What they felt for friends they considered family. Sans watched as that love raced toward them from the depths, shielding them from the worst of the shadows inside her. It soothed them like a balm after being burned, making everyone sigh in relief.

 

He took the chance to Check Papyrus and Undyne. Their HP was running low, because the dark within Frisk had been lashing at them but they were otherwise fine, despite the tears in their eyes. Sans felt his own orbits burning as he heard Alphys and Toriel sob. Asgore shook like a leaf and he understood why.

 

He could feel Frisk. They could  _ all _  feel her. She was in there,  _ alive _ . Despite the dire straights she was in she was doing everything she could to protect them, because she loved them. Sans realized that she was  _ letting _  herself love them, unconditionally and without fear of rejection. As she did the pink color in her soul stayed longer and longer before fading back to red, the star in her eye shining brighter. Seeing it, Sans was struck with the impulse to do something he hadn’t done since Papyrus was born.

 

He made a wish.

* * *

 


	26. Megalo Strike Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The humans face one another. Which will be victorious?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The hiatus begins! :D AtDGO will stay where it is until I'm ready to start posting the revised Ufan. Not gonna lie, it could be months from now. I want a nice, beefy buffer so I can still give you guys weekly updates. :3
> 
> Speaking of the future, once I AM ready post and end the hiatus, do I take this story down and post a new work? Or do I just alter the title to "Underfantasy"? Maybe stick the word "revised" in there, but idk how many people have even read the original over on Fanfiction.net... And I don't really want to kick off any more subscribers than necessary... I'm not really sure which one is the "right" way to go. Oh, well. I'll figure it out. Maybe. *shrug*
> 
> To whoever reads this; thank you. It doesn't matter whether you've stuck with me since the beginning, or if you've skipped every other chapter just to read this one. Thank you for reading this at all. :3

 

* * *

**Chapter 25: Megalo Strike Back**

 

Things were not going according to plan.

 

Chara did not expect to be intercepted. They’d been careful to stay in the shadows, out of sight of the night patrols. They reached the road back to the Underground and thought it would be clear sailing all the way to Prison. They were well on their way to dispatching Frisk’s uncle… at least, until Sans got in the way. 

 

They didn’t want to hurt him. They didn’t want to hurt  _ any _ monster, so they were mostly bluffing when they said they would kill him if he forced their hand. But Sans called their bluff, and they had no choice but to follow through. The heart Chara was borrowing began to pound as they prepared themselves to Fight.

 

The rush a confrontation always gave them grabbed the corners of Frisk’s mouth and pulled them upward. Chara didn’t really know why it happened, but it did. There was something about feeling threatened, of pitting their will against someone else’s that always made them smile. That particular tendency always unsettled humans, but Chara was glad they never froze or cowered in fear when presented with a challenge.

 

The Fight began. After weeks of hearing how lazy and unmotivated Sans was, and despite knowing the High Judge had to be a competent fighter at the very least, Chara was almost blindsided by the cold ferocity they could feel in his attacks (Frisk’s ability to feel such things also being borrowed). He was implacable, his certitude in what he considered “just” making it clear he was not going to be swayed. No matter how much he regretted hurting Frisk’s body he was going to keep them in the Hall of Judgement for as long as necessary.

 

As the Fight dragged on Chara contemplated taking all the damage Sans was dealing and letting Frisk’s body die. They were determined enough to return… but they hadn’t seen any stars on the way here. They tried to bring it back the same way Frisk had but they couldn’t manage it. They couldn’t “save,” either, so there was no telling what would happen if they died. Would time reset back to Frisk’s last recorded memory? Or, since Chara’s determination was dominating the soul at the moment, would they end up all the way back to just before they died of buttercup poisoning? Or would they not return at all, with the star stolen from them by Frisk’s uncle?

 

It was tempting to die, just to see what would happen and satisfy their curiosity, but Chara was on a mission and could not afford to be distracted. They could not say they were heartbroken over that fact.

 

They felt so…  _ alive! _ They had not been exaggerating when speaking with Frisk; they truly felt like they’d awakened in a stranger’s home, with all the disorientation that entailed. But after letting their magic soar however much they wanted, after Frisk’s limbs lost that foreign feeling, Chara felt like they’d been reborn. They were FINALLY free of that coward’s shadow! They were free to be themselves, again, not someone else or something they weren’t! And, as they kept dodging Sans’ attacks, that self was proving to be VERY good at staying alive. The few foodstuffs Frisk still had in her hip pack helped, although they ran out, eventually.

 

Despite how low their HP was when Mr. Dreemurr, Undyne and Alphys arrived they could feel that Sans was holding back. Despite all the damage he was doing in order to “spank” them, he truly had no intention of killing them. They would be stuck unless something… drastic happened. 

 

They did not want to die, but it seemed like it was going to be the only way to get out of the Fight. Fortunately, the perfect way to die was standing right in front of them, with the perfect provocation- with BOTH provocations joining her. Their plan almost worked, until Undyne’s ire was diverted to Mrs. Dreemurr… 

 

It had been… disconcerting to learn that, no matter how much love, hope and compassion they possessed, monsters could still turn on each other when angered. It was almost… human of them. Papyrus’ behavior, however, was closer to what they expected from monsters. It was a relief, in a way, though the feeling did not last long. Not when faced with another opportunity to die. 

 

They hadn’t expected Sans to somehow break through the invisible wall surrounding them, keeping them trapped in the Fight. Seeing him raise that magic sword, his left iris bright with his intent, triggered one last burst of defiance. Their ingrained determination was the only reason they kept reaching for the “fight” button, despite wanting to die. But when Sans was turned blue something happened in the soul they were borrowing from Frisk, staying their hand and rendering them immobile. 

 

Heat bloomed in their chest. It felt just like when they both Fought her uncle, the magic and determination of two people soaring to almost unbearable heights. They lost sight in their right eye, and couldn’t feel their right hand… and when little red pencils flew into the Fight button Chara knew why. 

 

Frisk had somehow broken free from her confinement and was attempting to end the Fight with Mercy! They tried to reach for “Fight,” since she didn’t succeed in demolishing it, but they found they couldn’t move their hand forward. No matter how determined they were they couldn’t touch the option. Their own words flowed through their mind.

 

_ “Determination can be shared. The more determined you become the more you share with me. As you grow stronger so do I.” _

 

The two of them were still connected. By honing their own determination they shared it with Frisk, making her stronger! The hand she controlled inched closer to Mercy and Chara was left with only one way end the Fight on their terms. They had to do whatever was necessary to accomplish their goals. 

 

Even if it meant taking their own life and starting over. 

 

But not even  _ that _ was working! Frisk’s soul resisted, their shared HP trickling down as the Fight ended and they collapsed. The intent Chara was pouring into tearing the soul apart should have killed them instantly, but Frisk would not lay down and die! That imbecile, that HUMAN thought she was more determined than them! 

 

**UNACCEPTABLE** .  _ They _ were the one in control, and they were going to STAY that way! They would whip up the deepest, darkest shadows of Frisk’s own mind and flay her with them, adding their own hatred if that was what it took to stay in the waking world.

 

But even that could not stop her, and their sight went black around the edges. Frisk was coming back, even gaining the strength to talk, no matter how difficult it was. Chara could feel how all the monsters were calling to Frisk from their souls, rooting for her. Frisk grew ever stronger, then was somehow able to shield all the monsters touching her soul from the shadow that almost swallowed them. She loved them all so much, despite how the shadows were hurting her for it. 

 

Chara felt it when Sans wished for Frisk to return. The others followed his lead… 

 

They’d had enough. They released the soul from their grasp and turned their attention inward, leaving the body to sleep without any one to guide it. Perhaps it was because they didn’t really “belong” in Frisk’s body, at all, but it was ridiculously easy to return to the plane of consciousness they’d left Frisk in. They found themselves standing before a calm, stone-faced princess that was no longer surrounded by knives. Chara felt the corner of their mouth twitch, tightening their smile into a grimace. 

 

“ **What do you think you are doing?** ” they asked, though it came out as more of a statement.

 

Unfazed, Frisk calmly said, “I remembered something a friend told me. She said I don’t have to stay in the hole inside myself, any more. I’m going home to be with my friends and family.” The choice to continue appeared beside her, but before she could touch it Chara sent red knives flying, breaking the floating panel. 

 

“ **You think YOU are the one in control?** ” they sneered. “ **Do not make me laugh. Your determination is NOTHING compared to mine. I still have a mission to accomplish. You are IN MY WAY.** ” 

 

“You sound stressed,” said Frisk. The non sequitur made Chara blink before she said, “Please forgive my lack of manners. Allow me to pour you some tea.” 

 

Frisk walked up to a table that had formed in their blind spot. It looked like a little girl’s idea of a princess’ tea time, with a white lace tablecloth beneath the delicate porcelain dishes. There were even tiny sandwiches and various sweets to nibble upon as the tea was served (golden flower, unless Chara’s nose was mistaken.) The princess stood next to the table, her back turned to them, pouring tea as though her life was not at stake. 

 

They felt like they were being mocked. It was like she thought they were not strong enough to be considered a threat, or significant enough to fear. Chara felt themselves flush with anger before they threw a conjured knife at the back of her head, to no avail. It was intercepted by a shield of red pencils erupting from the floor, much like what she’d done to protect Papyrus that fateful day. It’d been conjured even faster than before, and Frisk had done it without turning her head…

 

“Now, now. There’s no need for that,” Frisk chided calmly. “Come have a seat. That way we can talk this out like civilized people.” 

 

The princess set the cup of tea at one end of the table with nary a clink or clatter before taking a seat on the opposite side. She sat primly, pouring herself a cup before reaching for a plate and selecting a few of the finger foods. But instead of eating she looked toward Chara with politely raised eyebrows, waiting for them to sit. 

 

The child in the green sweater hid their confusion behind a smile. What game was Frisk playing? She clearly figured out how this plane was affected by the mind, and everything that appeared was a manifestation of her imagination. Was the tea poisoned? The food? Would the chair morph into something to restrain them? As a consciousness without a body Chara didn’t think they could die, so long as they remained determined. But they could still be incapacitated and trapped here, as they’d attempted to do to Frisk. If she was half as strong as she seemed to have become, it was possible… 

 

And she WAS strong. They were not foolish enough to underestimate her, again. They just thought she was a coward who did not exercise that strength in a meaningful manner. She was letting all that potential go to waste… 

 

Instead of taking a seat Chara summoned the biggest knife they could manage, forming it in the air above the table. They brought it down, cutting the table in half and sending everything atop it flying. Frisk didn’t even flinch as her little tea party was sent to the unseen floor, everything falling with an ear-shattering din as tea stained the void. Her expression went from “politely attentive” to the inscrutable flatness of her usual squint. Chara took that to mean they had her attention, at last.

 

They let their smile widen. “ **Let us CUT to the chase. I have a POINT to make.** ” They summoned a knife to their left hand to point it at her, mocking her enjoyment of wordplay. Frisk remained silent as they continued. “ **You wish to leave this place. I will not permit it. Not unless you promise to end your uncle’s life.** ” 

 

“I’m not going to make that kind of promise,” Frisk said evenly. 

 

Chara shrugged with one shoulder. “ **I was not expecting you to. Very well. You have forced my hand. You would have been an excellent partner. Such a pity you turned out to be so soft. GOODBYE.”**

 

They lunged at Frisk, raising their knife high, intending to stab her in the juncture where her shoulder met her neck. Though she was a manifestation of her determination like themselves, killing the consciousness named “Frisk” would probably make them the sole occupant of her body. Even if they were wrong and killing her consciousness killed her body too, it would still be one less human to hurt the monsters. Chara could see no downside, other than losing the opportunity of sending as many humans as possible into oblivion with Frisk. And possibly staying in the void if they could not return to the body.

 

The thought of staying in the dark did not bother them. Permitting cowards to toy with monsterkind’s fate DID. 

 

However, Frisk was not about to die quietly. Even as they charged she was reaching behind herself, grasping the back of the chair to bring it to her front as she stood, holding it up with the legs pointed at them to keep them at bay as she took a few steps backward. Chara stopped in their tracks, but let themselves smile mockingly. That feeble attempt to protect herself would not stop MAGIC! 

 

Knives rose from the floor behind Frisk, ready to fly and pierce her back, but Frisk blocked them, again. Chara kept smiling, but felt their face twitch at the apparent ease Frisk was suddenly displaying with her magic. Even for someone of her obvious intelligence, surely it would take longer for her to master her magic than the hour or so she spent in here? Even constructs of determination needed time to wrap their heads around new concepts…

 

Chara’s contemplation was cut short when Frisk set the chair on the floor and summoned something to her hands. It was red, and they thought she was summoning Mr. Dreemurr’s trident, but that wasn’t it.

 

It was a red pencil… about the size of one of Undyne’s spears. It amounted to a staff with a pointed end. Frisk’s eyes were open, her expression calm and focused, but they couldn’t see any intent in those eyes. They couldn’t feel it in the air, either. She said nothing as she stared at them…

 

They weren’t about to show their consternation show. Chara scoffed as they said, “ **About time you showed some backbone.** ” Frisk began to smirk, so they added, “ **That was not a pun.** ” 

 

“I know it wasn’t,” said Frisk. The humor that twinkled in her eyes betrayed her real thoughts, but it faded as quickly as it appeared. She looked almost sad as she said, “We don’t really need to do this. I don’t want to fight you. I know Asriel said you weren’t the best person… but I don’t think you’re the worst, either. I know people that deserve that title far more than you, and you haven’t reached their level. Not quite yet. Can’t we talk this out before you do?” 

 

Chara’s grip on their knife tightened. “ **Save your pity. Do not pretend to know me. You know nothing about me.** ” 

 

“You’re right. But it’s rather difficult to know someone when they won’t talk to you, wouldn’t you say?”

 

“ **ENOUGH. I made my decision. I will not allow your cowardice to harm the monsters. I WILL kill your uncle. Then I will exterminate the humans in New Ebott Town. All of them. That is the only way to keep the monsters safe.** ” 

 

“You can’t kill almost fifty thousand people!”

 

“ **Humans are not people. They are VERMIN and you know it! I will annihilate every single one on the face of this planet if I must!** ” 

 

“Including yourself?”

 

There was an emotion in the quiet question, a soft one that almost made Chara flinch but they stopped themselves just in time.  Even as they said, “ **Do not insult me. I am not human,** ”  _ something _ twisted inside them. The desire to reach out to someone, to cry for help and be understood… a pitiful, USELESS feeling they thought long dead and buried. They crushed it beneath a mental heel and ground it into the figurative dirt.

 

Such weakness could not be permitted. They were stronger than that, and besides… human compassion was WORTHLESS. It never helped them in the past and Chara was not going to let themselves fall into that trap, again. 

 

Never again. 

 

They began to walk around Frisk in a circle, pointing the knife at her. Frisk was in the stance Undyne had shown her, moving herself in such a way so she always faced them. The girl was certainly quick on the uptake, they would give her that much. They doubted her body had developed the reflexes only years of training would have given her, but they were not facing Frisk’s body. The girl before them represented her agile mind, every lesson she ever had and every observation she ever made. Perhaps that was why her casting was so much faster than before… 

 

Since she seemed disinclined to make the next move Chara took it upon themselves. They changed their grip on the conjured blade and threw it, sending it spinning at Frisk’s forehead. Even as she swatted it from the air they were summoning more blades, making them fall like rain upon her. Frisk’s pencil staff was a blur as she twirled it, knocking away and shattering all of them before they had a chance to touch her. Unperturbed, Chara concentrated upon her feet, willing knives to drive themselves upward into her legs. Unfortunately a red glow telegraphed their appearance, letting Frisk jump out of their way just before they formed. 

 

Frisk still made no move to attack. Whatever she could not block she dodged, and vice versa. Even when an attack connected it would only graze her, not damaging her enough to end her. Chara became the one to stand in place as Frisk dodged for her continued existence, running around them as they conjured attack after attack. 

 

Chara’s patience began to wear thin. They focused their attacks in order to drive Frisk closer to them. They summoned one more knife to their hand as she faced them at last. She tried to jab at them, tried to keep them at bay, but she wasn’t the only one who knew how to dodge. 

 

They made it past the point of her ridiculously large pencil. They grabbed it to keep it still as they brought their knife down upon it, shattering the construct and leaving Frisk defenseless. They grabbed a handful of her sweater and pulled her closer, intending to drive the knife into her belly and end their farce of a confrontation once and for all… 

 

Something in Frisk’s eyes finally changed. A light from within made those odd orange eyes blaze. She knocked their knife away from its goal by pushing Chara’s wrist with her right arm, as though she’d suddenly become a martial artist. As she did her left hand grabbed  _ them _ by the sweater as she took a step forward, using their own momentum against them as her knee was driven into their belly.

 

They were nothing but a construct of their determination… but the blow still knocked the wind out of them. And there was  _ still _ no intent to harm! 

 

Frisk pushed them away and hopped backward, light on her feet as she gave Chara time to catch their breath. Once they did she put up her dukes and hopped on the balls of her feet, the way boxers did… Before Chara could puzzle out what was going on Frisk charged, rushing in with a flurry of punches that had them on the defensive. They could swear an orange aura had settled itself upon her fists, glove-like as something else orange wrapped itself around her arm…

 

Chara backpedaled, stopping her advance with more rising knives. They blinked, trying to see if the orange aura was still clinging to Frisk, but they saw nothing of that color. She was squinting again, hiding her eyes. They thought they saw a pale blue light shining in her hair, draping itself like a ribbon on her head. She stood there, arms at her sides, looking for all the world like she was going to do nothing at all, but Chara could tell she was waiting. She was trying to keep her body relaxed but there was suddenly a tension in the aura surrounding her. It was coiled like a snake, ready to strike if they dared to get any closer.

 

Why was this so familiar? Chara kept their distance and attacked again, only for it to be knocked away by a pale blue, stubby, toy-like knife that flashed to life in Frisk’s hand before it, too, dissipated. Red knives rained upon her again and Frisk started  _ dancing _ , of all things, dodging gracefully as she practically defied gravity. 

 

She moved like a ballerina, which struck Chara as odd. They’d briefly seen her taking lessons in some older (and immensely boring) memories, but those lessons had been when she was small. They didn’t find any lessons in her later memories, as though she was taken out of the classes at some point. They focused on her feet, which were enveloped in an azure-colored aura…

 

Suspicion narrowed their eyes. They remembered the last time she danced like that. It’d been when she was facing Flowey, after she called out to all six human souls. She was relying upon her mimicry, now? Why of all the disgusting…!

 

They shook their head at her and sneered. “ **Your strength is not enough to defeat me. So you resort to using someone else’s. How PATHETIC.** ” 

 

“You’re the one that said I had the power of ‘memory mimicry’,” Frisk said reasonably, tilting her head. “What good are these memories if I  _ don’t _ use them? Of course, I know memories will only get me so far. I believe that’s where artistic interpretation comes into play.” Before Chara could puzzle out what she meant the azure aura faded. She pointed to the air above them, slashing her finger down. They were surrounded by small, purple pencils…

 

Frisk twirled her finger and the pencils spiraled with the motion, drawing circles on the ground around Chara before rising, drawing upon the air. They tried to cut away the strings but there were simply too many. Every line that was cut, every purple pencil broken was replaced by two more. The strings constricted about them, trapping Chara’s arms against their sides and binding their legs as three parallel lines were drawn on the floor. They remained on their feet, just barely maintaining their balance as they waited for Frisk’s next move. They could do little else without hurting themselves on their own knives. 

 

Frisk tilted her head, again. “Do you really think you’re not human?” she asked, picking up a conversation long since ended. “What are you, if not that?” 

 

They kept their mouth shut. Not only did they not feel like conversing with a human, they did not know what to call themselves. Magicians were still considered humans. Witches were not, but Chara did not want to call themselves such a thing. They were not a monster, no matter how much they wished they could be. They most definitely were not an angel, so that only left… 

 

They shook their head and shouted, “ **It does it not matter! All that matters is killing you!** ” 

 

“And you want to kill humans in order to protect the monsters. Yes, I remember.” Frisk was so calm she sounded almost bored. Before Chara had time to feel offended she was saying, “So the end justifies the means? Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but that’s an awfully  _ human _ viewpoint to have. One even Father embraced, before he ended the Underground’s war.” 

 

“ **You dare to lump me in with the rest of you SCUM?** ” Chara launched more knives at Frisk, but she blasted them away with yellow bullets shot from her right index finger. She sent red pencils down the lines, forcing them to hop from side to side to dodge (a simple matter, since they were pitifully slow). They somehow stayed on their feet as they said, “ **You DARE to lump Mr. Dreemurr in with your lot!? He is the king. He had the determination to do what was necessary. He was going to free his people. Even if that meant killing you. He DID kill you! TWICE!** ” 

 

“I know he did, but there’s an important distinction to make between the two of you.” She summoned a green frying pan to her hand to help block another attack. She opened her eyes once more, boring into theirs as she said, “He’s never reveled in taking people’s lives. He regrets killing people in the old war and the six humans that came before me. As he drove that trident into my heart I saw nothing but sorrow in his eyes. I  _ felt _ it behind his intent to kill. 

 

“You, on the other hand, seem to relish the thought of humanity’s destruction. The guilt or innocence of a given individual doesn’t matter to you. In your eyes, being born human is enough to justify their destruction. That’s not right, Chara. I grew up around liars and narcissists but even  _ I  _ know better than to think every single human being is that way. There are good ones, too, no matter how few and far between they may be. I want to protect them from you, and anyone else that wants to hurt them, even if we never meet.” 

 

“ **Your sentimentality is going to get you killed,** ” Chara half-murmured. “ **That kind of soft-hearted nonsense is exactly what those liars and narcissists of yours take advantage of. You can never become strong if you let others tear you down from within.** ” 

 

“You don’t have to let people completely inside to be nice to them.” Chara blinked at her, staring as though she’d grown a second head. That was not something a bleeding heart like her would say. Frisk raised an eyebrow at them as she said, “There’s a world of difference between giving someone the benefit of the doubt and trusting them completely. In my opinion, at least.” 

 

She shrugged. “Sans said I had to learn about politics, but he didn’t realize I’d grown up around politicians. The sleazy sort that talked out of both sides of their mouth. I’m well aware of the dangers trusting others can bring.” 

 

She paused her speech, clasping her hands before her as though in prayer. Before Chara could demand she explain what she was doing a familiar glow enveloped her. Instead of a soul floating before her chest she had a star that blazed in many colors. She extended that star to them… and chose to SAVE them. Chara felt the power surge through them, kind and gentle. A memory flooded their mind, unbidden…

 

_ “Forgive me, my son,” his mother said tearfully. The arms wrapped around him were soft and warm as she said, “I am sorry to have given you this cursed gift. I did not think my great-great grandmother’s blood still flowed so strong. _

 

_ “No one can know you possess this power. It is dangerous. No matter how scared you are, you must never use it. For your own sake, you must keep it inside. Promise me…” _

 

Chara gasped as he- as THEY pulled themselves out of their own mind, determined to kick Frisk out. They ground down the old feeling of loss as they attacked, trying to make themselves feel strong, again. Before they could get it back Frisk SAVED them, again…

 

_ People were chanting. The smell of woodsmoke was choking him. A woman was screaming and he could smell her hair burning from where he hid…  _

 

_ He had to leave. He HAD to, before the bastards killed him, too! They already took away everything he cared about. He had no reason to stay… _

 

“ **STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING THIS INSTANT!!!** ” Chara threw their magic at Frisk blindly but she dodged them expertly. She used the star again…

 

_ Under the cover of night, he fled. To where he knew not, but dying in the woods had to be better than being burned at the stake. At least that way Nature would be allowed to take its course, rather than his death being a matter of  _ humans _ enforcing their will upon him. But where to go…? _

 

_ His mother always said Mount Ebott was a mysterious place. Those who journeyed to its summit never returned. That sounded as good a place as any to die…   _

 

Chara’s voice rose in a wordless scream as they threw every scrap of magic they could summon at Frisk. She was getting too deep and they could not force her out. She was learning too much. She could not know. She’d never understand! They did not WANT her to understand! The star shone once more…

 

_ “Mom, Dad, this is Chara. They fell into the Ruins from high, high up!” _

 

_ “Gracious, you are injured! I will heal you, my child.” _

 

_ “You are fortunate to survive such a fall… Welcome, little one, to our kingdom. Consider this your new home. Ho, ho ho!”  _

 

_ The monsters did not care that he was using an alias. They gave him a safe place to live, despite knowing nothing about his life. They never asked, either, giving him time to open up to them on his own. They even taught them that they didn’t have to think of themselves as a “he,” any longer. Chara had never felt so free… except in one respect.  _

 

_ They continued to hide their magic, not wanting to upset their new caretakers. Magicians had sealed the monsters away, after all. They did not want to see the same fear and disgust they’d seen from humans reflected in the monsters’ eyes.  _

 

_ But they learned of the kingdom’s growing despair. An entire generation had been born and grown up in the Underground, never knowing the sun. Another generation would soon know the same. One day only the oldest of monsters, those like Duke Asterisk and Mr. Gerson, who maintained their extended youth by refusing to breed, would remember what the surface was like. _

 

_ Perhaps there was a way Chara could help? And, if they could eliminate humanity at the same time, it would be more than worthwhile… But how to go about it? They were NOT going to kill a Boss Monster to take their soul. That meant Chara had to be the one to die and give their soul to a monster. But they would need a partner… _

 

_ Mr. Dreemurr became ill, because of an accident. Chara hid how bad they felt about it behind their smile, using the moment to teach Asriel how to control his feelings to become strong, as they had. They later realized something.  _

 

_ They already  _ had _ a partner. He just needed a little polishing. It would take a little bit of time, but any sacrifice was worth monsterkind’s freedom, in their eyes.  _

 

_ One day, the two of them would go down in monster history… _

 

“And you did, but not the way you intended.”

 

Chara still stood on their feet, still bound by purple magic. Their smile had fallen long ago, or what FELT like long ago. They struggled to control the tremors that threatened to bring them to their knees. Their eyes burned but they refused to let the tears fall. They glared at Frisk, hoping she could see how much they hated her for making them remember. For making them feel so helpless, again. 

 

“Now you know how I felt, when you forced me to remember,” she said softly. “Not very fun, is it?” 

 

“What do you want from me?” Chara was proud of the way their voice came out so evenly when their throat felt like they’d been screaming for hours. 

 

“I want to talk,” said Frisk. “I think we have a lot in common, despite our differences. The thing we both want to accomplish more than anything is to keep the monsters safe. We don’t have to fight over  _ how _ we do so. Fighting over differences is such a human thing to do, wouldn’t you say?” Chara didn’t answer, so she continued. “If we’re going to share a body and soul, I think we  _ should _ come to some sort of an understanding. But before that, we should probably get to know one another a little better. The proper way, without diving into memories we don’t want to show other people.”

 

Frisk sat on the ground, crossing her legs before smiling at them. “Why don’t you start? I’m all ears.”

* * *

 


	27. Announcement

So I’ve decided to leave the And the Dream Goes on where it is and post the revision as its own story. That way y’all can see where I changed stuff and where I didn’t! It’s not because I felt bad about getting rid of something one person may or may not have enjoyed. Not at all! ^__^; Also, if you've only read AtDGO here on Ao3, then you get to see how I started this ~~absolute trash fire~~ bag of popato chisps I call a story. ^w^;;

 

…moving on!!!

 

In the next few days I will post the first three chapters of the revision, just to give y’all a taste and see if it’s to your liking. If so, great! If not… that’s par for the course, really. =/ After chapter 3, though, I’m going to wait about a month before posting the rest. I need a little more time to get more buffer under me. -.-;;

 

I hope you’ll enjoy the new, (hopefully improved) Underfantasy! See y’all there! :D

**Author's Note:**

> [Link to AtDGO's precursor fic, Underfantasy. (It's not necessary to read, but if ur curious feel free.) ](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12838892/1/Underfantasy)
> 
>  [Me on Tumblr. ](https://deku-lily.tumblr.com) If you have questions, feel free to ask me. :3


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